


Broken Goodbyes

by dreaming_of_the_crash



Series: Sempiternal Dreams [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Harry, Dark, Dark Albus Dumbledore, Evil Voldemort (Harry Potter), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Sorry, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, M/M, Mutual Pining, Protective Severus Snape, Rape, Sick Harry, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Time Skips, Top Severus Snape, Wordcount: Over 100.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:29:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 26
Words: 157,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26738158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaming_of_the_crash/pseuds/dreaming_of_the_crash
Summary: Severus is none too happy to learn that he must resume his lessons with Harry Potter and on his birthday no less. Despite his reluctance, he agrees. When his birthday rolls around, Snape is in for the surprise of his life when Harry saunters through his office door five minutes late and upends all he once believed about the Boy-Who-Lived.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: Sempiternal Dreams [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946122
Comments: 292
Kudos: 812
Collections: Harry Potter FFs, Works worth reading a million times over, Works worth reading again and again





	1. The Twinkle In His Eyes

Striding through Hogwarts with his cape trailing confidence behind him, Severus scowled as he headed towards the Headmaster’s office. Albus had leaned in during lunch and requested Snape’s presence afterwards before smiling to the hall and leaving. It grated on Snape’s nerves the way that man ordered him around and was heralded as a king. Severus couldn’t help but snarl out at the crowd of children watching him eat, the fading twinkle in Albus’s eye a clue to what this meeting would be about. And those damn green eyes had been on him too meaning that nothing pleasant could come of this meeting. He left in an angry flurry of cape without even waiting for dessert, barely noticing the clouded fear in Harry’s eyes as he watched the man stalk out of the Great Hall.

Snape had had enough with the brat this year.

The brat had started to grow, resembling less and less of James and morphing into something uniquely Harry. Snape could still see Lily in those eyes but there was a determined passion there too which neither of his parents had possessed. A headache pressed against his temples as his shoes aggressively knocked against the ground.

_ Idiot boy has begun to care, about what I can only imagine. _

With a roll of his eyes, the man dressed in all black continued forward but his mind had latched onto Harry. 

_ The child has changed into a man. Albus has asked too much of him. If the brat knew half the things I’ve done for him he might even  _ **_pity_ ** _ me. _ A shudder ran down his shoulders.  _ Fancy that, the boy-who-lived pitying a Death Eater. _

He unconsciously grabbed onto the hem of his left sleeve with his hand, holding it down in a subconscious attempt to keep the mark hidden. Despite the sharp, aggressive facade he kept in place per Dumbledore’s orders, Snape yearned for pity. His mind ran away some nights, with the help of strong spirits, and took him to places where children laughed at his jokes and men smiled his way. He hated being feared.

_ Potter’s never gotten that right. Hated me of course, but never feared me. Stubborn and foolish. _ A small voice inside his head whispered back,  _ Just like you. _

Severus shook his head. No, Harry was nothing like him. Harry was far braver than Severus. He had accomplished so much in his short life and had already won the hearts of the country, though that part came without much effort. Severus paused as he sensed the approach of several students down an upcoming hallway.

They mumbled as they walked down the corridor, eyes on each other and not noticing Snape standing, waiting for them to pass with a sad, forlorn look in his eyes.

Harry was important and he believed he was not. Harry knew he was important. Snape’s hand bunched up into fists briefly.

_ He’ll be an even worse menace when he defeats the Dark Lord. _ He rubbed at the wrinkle between his brows as he took a breath and began walking again.  _ He’ll terrorize the wizarding world with his entitlement. _ The little whisper was back.  _ Are you certain? _ Snape grunted to himself.

Harry had changed. He had lost the bratty way of behaving sometime in the last year or two. There was a glint of understanding in his eyes though Severus often over-scrutinized it and called it a trick of the light. Harry had grown and it seemed he had begun to respect Snape. His mind wandered to the summer they spent in the burrow. 

A gentle smile relaxed his lips. Every evening he had been in that house, and it had been many, Harry came to sit beside him quietly sharing nothing besides the quiet and the warmth of the fire. The last month before school resumed, the young wizard had even begun to brew tea for the two, bringing a mug over to Snape without a word passed between them. And since school had started, Severus had heard Harry’s voice rise on multiple occasions to defend the bat of the dungeons.

_ When did that imp slip past my defenses? _ The voice returned.  _ You know damn well. _

Since the event where Harry had port-keyed away during the Triwizard Tournament, it had become increasingly difficult for Snape to believe he hated the boy. Severus had felt Voldemort’s return but the moment Harry had vanished with Cedric, Severus knew where they had gone. He had been terrified. The same terror washed over him again as he remembered.

_ Yes, that was the start of it. I was so afraid that it had been Harry. Pay no mind that it was Lily’s son, I was worried that  _ **_Harry_ ** _ had died. Potter, _ he corrected.

Since then, he found that he had grown  _ fond _ of the boy as if some wicked emotion had been released with the relief that Harry had not died. Something dangerous sparkled in the emerald depths of those eyes, something as dark and painful as Snape’s own past. Severus understood. Severus wanted to hold Harry in his arms and fix all the pain, prevent anything else from hurting the young man. 

_ No, Severus. He is not for you. You may only protect him, with your life if it comes down to it. _

“Treacle Tart.”

The statue moved and granted him access.

Gliding up the long stairway to the Headmaster’s office, Severus let his mind continue wandering. For the entire school year it felt as though those eyes were boring a hole straight through Snape’s chest. In Defense, Harry had asked polite questions, kept his mouth shut, and only failed terribly twice. Severus noticed that Potter had brushed his hand across the Defense Professor’s shoulder several times as he hunched over to inspect and instruct. Snape had even felt the boy’s mind press against his a time or two earning him what appeared to everyone else as a misplaced week of detentions and a wrongfully deducted thirty points. 

Snape clucked his tongue.

_ It’s always something with that petulant brat. He’s no doubt attempting to save the world and rid it of  _ **_me,_ ** _ his greasy professor.  _ Images of himself being tortured by the dark lord and wearing those horrid masks floated through his thoughts.  _ Good of him to hate me as he does. I’d be a fool to fight for his respect. A fool indeed to care about the boy-who-lived. _ But the thought tickled his brain,  _ If he hated you, he would have poisoned your tea when he’d had the chance. You did take it without question. _

Shivering at the doorway as he realized he had trusted the brat, Severus sighed.

_ What have I done to you now, Harry? What great sin will you have me persecuted for today? _

Snape strode into the Headmaster’s office.  __

“Hello, Severus. Glad you could join me.”

Snape took another few steps into the room, ignoring the offer of a chair and choosing instead to let his hands lay idle by his side as he stood near the door. Giving only the headmaster a curt nod, he fixed his dark eyes out the tall window, silently marveling at the deep lake off in the distance.

_ When did I grow to despise you? _ Snape occluded his mind from Albus knowing from experience that he would leverage the powerful current of emotions within Severus against him. Snape had already been badly burned by the man too many times to count. 

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

“Yes, I rather think it is.”

Albus narrowed his eyes. “Well then, let’s get started. I’ve already spoken to Harry on this and you may be surprised to know he readily agreed. A bit too enthusiastically if you ask me. Have you been poisoning the boy?”

Taking a deep breath through his hooked nose, Snape calmed the storm ready to snap thunder and lightning from his mouth.

“Ridiculous.”

Albus laughed lightly. “Yes, I suppose it is. Though,”  _ Wonderful, he has chosen to prod. _ “You must have noticed his change in demeanor.”

“I am hardly one to complain when respect is finally learned.”

“Yes, I see.” Snape turned his dark eyes on the old man and Dumbledore nodded. “Severus, I want you to begin occlumency lessons again with Harry.”

An exasperated huff raised both of his eyebrows as his body suddenly became animated. “After last year’s incident? After the brat looked into my pensieve?” He paced around the room, waving his arms as he did so. “Albus, he went practically unpunished. That, that spoiled little brat does not deserve another chance to intrude on my personal life. Surely you cannot expect me to take this, this  _ child _ back under my care.”

“Has he ever left it?”

Snape’s sneer grew but he stopped suddenly at the door and spun on his heel. “Then I have no say in this matter. It is an order.”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as he sat in his ornate chair. 

“Severus…”

“When shall I begin?”

“Tomorrow evening. The sooner the better.”

Standing together in solidarity against the outrage, both Snape’s lip and eyebrow lifted.  _ So the fool’s forgotten my birthday as well. _

“Albus, I would prefer if we wait until the close of the week. Give me the courtesy to prepare myself for the lessons.”

“I am not asking, Severus.”

Tightening his thin lips together and narrowing his eyes, Snape ground out, “Then it seems you have your answer.”

His cloak billowed around him as he stormed out of the office. On his way down the stairs, he caught the tip of a shoe seemingly unattached to a body. Grabbing where he supposed Harry’s head was, Snape ripped off the invisibility cloak. 

Glaring down at the boy he tossed the cloak to the floor and said, “Do take care not to be late, Potter. Seven o’clock sharp tomorrow evening.”

Without waiting for a reply from those big doe eyes, Snape stormed off to be alone in his dungeons hoping that the Dark Lord would not remember his birthday as everyone else had. As they often did.


	2. Legilimens

Snape sat behind his large desk in his office, dress shoes tapping as he watched the muggle clock count the seconds Harry was late. The only thing he wished to do tonight was sit besides his fireplace with a glass of bourbon, a book, and unadulterated silence. He had visited the Dark Lord the night before, exactly at midnight, the tremble still in his hands from the attacks. He sneered to himself as he recalled the voices of the Death Eaters cheering him a happy birthday. A hand moved to a still badly bruised rib.

_ Lucius never could contain his enthusiasm in the Dark Lord’s presence.  _ Snape mumbled something about Lucius being a twisted puppy before running a tired hand over his eyes.

All he desired was to sit quietly beside his fire and whittling away at the last remaining hours of his birthday. Instead, he had to sit alone at his desk, waiting for the Potter brat to show up and undoubtedly sour his day. Looking down at his shaking, potion-stained fingers, he sighed. 

_ Thirty-seven I suppose it is.  _ He ran a hand through his hair with a deep breath.  _ Albus forgot this year. Mmph, finally losing his vice-grip on that kind facade. _ He huffed softly.  _ As if any besides myself would take notice. The old coot is probably only allowing me to see the slip, insult to injury I suppose. Merlin knows he’s still got the golden boy on his side. _

Severus felt the tickle of a sneeze building. Desperately focusing on his breathing, he clutched at his rib as he failed to stave off the sneeze. A rough shout broke through the silence. Daggers of pain shot through bruised and cracked bones.

_ Minerva certainly forgot this year and the rest don’t care enough to realize the dungeon bat has a birthday. Only the Malfoy child mentioned anything and that was last week. That child doesn’t have the mind for the dark arts. Lucius is wrong in that. That obnoxious boy can hardly remember much beyond his blood and his name. _

He laid his head back against the chair and cast a weak warming charm on himself, not entirely trusting his wandwork with such an unsteady hand.

_ The Dark Lord was the only one to remember the day this year. Evil sod could never forget, never miss an opportunity to torture  _ **_me._ ** _ Pity. Merlin knows I could have gone a year without the crucios. I do believe they are wearing on me. _

With a sad huff, he straightened his back and returned to watching the clock. He seldom allowed himself to feel pity but he supposed this was a time he could allow it. Regardless of what he showed during the day, he had hoped that someone, anyone would notice him enough to ask what the matter was or wish him a happy birthday.

_ Foolish wish, Severus. You know better than to hope for that. _ Brief flashes of his childhood flashed before him. Thousands of wishes began to flood his mind as he licked his lips.  _ Perhaps I’ll put that in the pensieve tonight. Cannon fodder for Harry if he finds poor Severus crying on his birthday. _ Something nagged him in his mind,  _ Crying every year makes it a tradition, doesn’t it? _

Closing his eyes for a moment, wand and hand resting gently on his lap as he kicked his legs onto his desk, Snape measured his breathing. Every fiber of his body felt as though it were still contorting from the previous night. A fire burned in his muscles. His bones felt as though they’d been dipped in acid. And his head throbbed from the many times it had smacked against the stone floors as he thrashed. He even had the light kiss of bruise tucked behind the strands of hair framing his face, not that anyone would look close enough to notice. 

Sneaking another pain potion from his pocket, he downed it in one gulp. The third that evening and showing very little promise of working. 

_ He won’t show and here I’ll have spent the few free hours of my day waiting on him. How absolutely predictable. _

Just as he thought it, the door flew open, nearly knocking into the wall of potions had Snape not lifted his wand and stopped it, wrenching him from his thoughts. The sudden jarring movement of his body as he snapped his eyes open and dropped his feet from the desk elicited a muffled groan from the professor. Gritting his teeth and standing in an attempt to hide the terrible pain from the boy, he walked around the outside of his desk.

“Potter,” he hissed. 

“Sorry Professor. I just… Guess I lost track of the time.” 

“Indeed. Seven minutes late, seven points from Gryffindor.” The pain rolled through him in nauseating waves. Severus saw stars dance in his vision as he tried to glare at the boy. He ended up focusing with all his might on the wide, worried green eyes in an attempt not to collapse.

Before moving any closer, a quizzical look crossed Harry’s face. “Are you all right?”

Sighing heavily and attempting a sneer, Snape gave up with a roll of his eyes as the pain settled. “Yes.”

Harry squinted his eyes behind the large glasses as he inspected Snape. He said, “You have a bruise. And…” Harry trailed off, his hand absentmindedly touching the spot on his own forehead where Snape’s blue kiss sat. The narrowed eyes widened again and Snape found himself momentarily caught up in them. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Though your concern is endearing, I assure you I am well enough to suffer through this ordeal.”

A frown crossed Harry’s face and Snape suddenly wished he had said nothing. Slowly, Harry approached the desk, holding out a small black box wrapped in a bow. Knowing well what the contents of the box were for they came from Snape’s favorite chocolate shop, he narrowed his eyes. 

“What is this, Potter?”

“Oh come on. You mean to tell me you’ve never had a birthday present?” Something full of sorrow softened Harry’s eyes as Snape responded by opening his mouth and promptly shutting it. “‘Sides,” Harry continued, “I have it on good authority you like these.”

The black box glittered and gleamed in Harry’s hands as he presented the box.

_ Harry sodding Potter. _ Severus thought to all the birthdays Minerva had invited him over for drinks, the chocolates on display. _Minerva... You've told him._ Snape swallowed thickly, wondering to himself how much information the witch had divulged to Harry. Had she simply told him he enjoyed these chocolates or had she explained that Dumbledore had forbidden the professors from gifting anything to Severus? Snape’s heartbeat quickened. He had in fact never received a birthday present besides the torture delivered yearly by the Dark Lord and the occasional happy birthday from Draco and Albus. Minerva did her best with spirits and open boxes of chocolate, but Albus ruined his chances of feeling any sort of love from the staff.

_ Albus forbade them _ _all_. Snape suddenly recalled the small, glass phial Minerva had given him for extremely volatile potions his first Christmas as a professor at Hogwarts . _That was ended before it could begin._ _ “Wouldn’t want him to get comfortable, would we Minerva?” Bastard. _ A small “but” wiggled its way through his head.  _ But Harry never listens to the rules, hardly ever sees them. _ The blush creeping into his pale cheeks was one of both appreciation and embarrassment.

“Whether I have received a gift or not is unrelated to my question.”

When Harry replied, it was softer with an unspoken understanding. “It’s a birthday gift, Snape. Chocolates. Maybe they’ll round out that bitter attitude.”

“Watch your tongue.”

Shifting from side to side, Harry looked up at Snape. If Snape didn’t know better he’d say there was something sorrowful in those eyes. Disappointment, was it? Yes, disappointment with a subtle brush of rage.

“I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your birthday.”

“It is not.”

Harry’s eyes darted back down to the gift and suddenly, Snape understood. He had not shown one way or another if he would take the gift.  _ Gryffindors. _ As his arm moved he thought,  _ No, just Harry. _

Reluctantly, Snape reached out and grabbed at the black box of chocolate held together by a delicate-looking green bow. He couldn’t help feel a swell of enamourment towards Potter. Over the years, he tried his best to hide the care in his eyes towards the boy. In the last six months it seemed it had ballooned into something akin to love but in the moment, he let the facade drop. Holding the package a moment with his trembling hand, he let a small twitch of smile ghost across his face. He was rewarded when he locked eyes on the sparkling green emeralds. Harry was happy. Quickly though, a frown covered Harry’s face as Snape set the present on his desk.

“Why are you shaking?”

“Always so curious, Potter.” Harry continued staring. With a heavy sigh, Snape said, “It seems as though the Dark Lord’s idea of a present differs from yours.”

Harry cocked his head. A sort of understanding sadness blossomed in the green eyes. 

As the mouth opened to say something, Snape cut in. “Shall we begin?”

“Yeah. Just let me get ready.”

Snape snorted. “I hardly think the Dark Lord will allow you to get ready.”

Mumbling Harry said, “Well you aren’t him. Not even close.”

Snape remained quiet. Unsure if Harry had given him a compliment or hinted at trusting the brooding man, he filed the comment away for further analyzing.

Harry just stared over his glasses before giving a sharp nod.

“Legilimens!” 

Staggering back, Harry quickly regained his footing. Snape reduced his eyes into two angry slits. The boy was not forcing him from his mind at all. It felt almost as if he were offering up images for Snape to take. Angry words flowed from various Dursely’s mouths. Fists rained down on Harry. Images of burns, bruises, and broken bones all assaulted Snape as he sifted through the memories. It was practically the pain of his own childhood reflected back to him. Harry wasn’t resisting at all.

Pulling himself back, Snape said, “If you are going to waste my time, then you may leave.”

“No, please!” Desperation wet Harry’s eyes and his lower lip began to tremble. Severus had seen rage in those eyes, hatred, strength, and even the faint twinkle of admiration but he had never seen despair. Straightening to look down his nose at the boy whose hands were splayed wide in an attempt to stop Snape from ending the session, Snape’s eyebrow rose.

Harry said, “I’ll try again. Please. I  _ will  _ do this. Just give me time.”

“We shall see. Legilimens!”

The memories popped up faster this time and Snape was certain now that Harry was sharing them with him. More images of Harry screaming at the hands of his guardians made Snape sick. The poor bones of the malnourished boy protruding by the end of the summer holidays were hidden with a concealment charm and a well-practised hand. Lingering, Snape swore that the hand’s owner was Albus. The bruises vanished with the flick of a skilled wand, Dumbledore’s wand he was certain now. Pushing further into Harry’s mind, Severus audibly growled as he witnessed Vernon drop his pants after a particularly bad beating and force himself into Harry’s mouth.

_ Albus had me believe he was spoiled. That…that coward. _ A deep rage awakened in Severus as he continued to watch.

The atrocities it seemed had only just begun as memory after memory flowed over Severus. Harry, whipped with a belt and taken with his shirt shoved in his mouth. Harry, woken in the middle of the night, hands around his throat and forced to swallow bitter fluids and the taste of shame. Harry asking for food after starving for nearly a week and being fed a stale loaf of bread while his uncle took him from behind. The terror, shame, and sheer agony the boy felt stung Severus as if his soul had been littered with small cuts and doused in acid.

Then the walls came down and he was shoved, albeit gently, from Harry’s mind. There Harry stood, tears glistening on his face and eyes puffed up with sadness as Severus braced himself against his desk with an arm. 

_ And Albus dare call him boy. He dares to send him  _ **_back_ ** _! I will have that old man’s hide. _

Snape watched the hands fist into the robes by his side as Harry bit at his cheeks to stop the tears. With a sigh, Snape snatched up the chocolates. Opening them and popping one in his own mouth, he leafed through the flavours finding a chocolate he deemed best, a chocolate-covered cherry, before handing it to Harry. 

As Harry chewed on the chocolate, Snape said, “Would you care to continue this lesson in my rooms?”

Harry nodded and Snape walked them through a wall into his rooms. Motioning to his left towards a large green couch studded with black gems and two black wingback chairs he said, “Sit where you’d like.”

Flicking his wand, he ignited the fire and closed the floo. Unbuttoning his robes with a soft hiss and revealing a plain white button-down shirt and black slacks, he rolled up his sleeves, revealing arms decorated in more bruises and cuts, before pouring himself a glass of bourbon. The cool air on the injuries was a welcome change from the scratch of cloth. Pausing, he considered Harry’s age a moment before deciding sixteen and some damning circumstances justified a glass. Pouring a second glass of bourbon half as full as his own, he padded over to Harry who sat stiffly on the couch.

Leaning over the young wizard, he handed him the glass without saying a word. The bourbon splashed against the sides of the crystal as he trembled. Their fingers brushed together, warm skin over cool and Severus watched a spark glitter across Harry’s eyes. Shaking the fluttering feeling in his stomach, he settled himself in the black wingback nearest to Harry before crossing his feet at the ankle on top of an ornately carved, midnight black coffee table covered in glass. 

Harry raised his eyebrows earning a small smirk from Severus.

“This is my home. I think I am more than allowed to place my feet on the furniture.”

Bringing the glass to his lips and turning his head towards the fire to his right, he missed Harry’s smile but it existed nonetheless. 

“Do drink that slowly.”

“Afraid I’ll drain your stores?”

“I am afraid of nothing. I am  _ concerned _ what your friends may think if I return a smashed Harry Potter to Gryffindor Tower on my birthday. They’ll be sure I’ve poisoned you.” Pausing he quietly mumbled into the glass as he tipped it to his lips. “A small gift for myself.”

This time Harry audibly laughed, the sound ricocheting off the stone walls and warming Snape more than the bourbon flowing down his throat. It was a sweet sound with deep tones to it that seemed to crawl into dark places Snape had forgotten he had.

“You’re right. They’d really think you had it in for me.” 

Snape sipped his bourbon, his lips smiling over the rim of the glass. _ Harry Potter laughing in my quarters, perhaps that is gift enough this year. _ His dark eyes watched as Harry stared at the remnants of his meeting with the Dark Lord. Keeping his emotions to himself, he let his eyes trail down his arms.

It had been a particularly bad birthday. Lucius had enjoyed himself far too much. Purple and blue splotches and lines coloured his pale skin. The cuts were little more than pink spots of healing skin. They would scar. He’d done his best with his healing salves but without having time to brew more than what Poppy needed in this last month, he had to endure the after-effects of his birthday present.

After a brief pause, Harry whispered over the rim of his glass. “Was it the Cruciatus Curse?”

Severus paled. Turning his head towards the fire, he waved the bottle of bourbon over. Downing his glass, he quickly refilled it.

“Yes.”

“Does he do it every year?”

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Severus wondered where the sudden pang of sadness had come from. After all these lonely birthdays filled with pain or the aftermath of it, this one seemed to burn the most.  _ Sitting beside a future I can never have. I will either be dead or in Azkaban by the end of this war. _

“Yes.”

“Does Dumbledore know?”

“He does.”

Snape kept his head turned towards the fire as he quickly finished his second glass. Vowing to make slower work of the third, he brought the glass to his lips and let the bourbon burn across the pink flesh.

“Have you ever…” Harry let his words dissolve into the tense air.

Turning back to face him, the dark eyes crawled over Harry’s face, eventually boring holes through his head. Harry fidgeted beneath the weight of the gaze. “Have I ever what, Harry?”

The green eyes went wide at the use of his name and Snape mentally kicked himself for slipping up.

“Gotten a birthday present.”

His onyx eyes held Harry’s gaze as his body moved only with the rise and fall of his breathing. His quickened pulse could be seen thumping alongside his throat against the stillness of his body. Holding out the hand which held the glass of bourbon, he let waves rock the liquor before calling over his chocolates. 

Lifting the lid he said, “Evidently, I have.”

Harry held his gaze awhile longer before saying, “I’m sorry.”

Snape looked at his lap.

They sat in silence for a while after that, Harry with his socked feet tucked under him on the couch as he leaned on the arm. Empty bourbon glass on the coffee table. Snape decided that he quite liked the way the shoes lay on their side, one halfway under the couch, both in a state of orderly chaos. He decided he liked a rosy-cheeked Harry Potter half-dreaming on his couch. His smell wafted into the warm air and seemed to pop with the breath of the fire. Something about this all felt like what others called home. 

The two shared glances every so often. Snape had brought the bottle to rest on the small end table between them along with several books he suggested Harry could read. He himself sat shoes off with his feet stretched out by the fire as he read from an old book on forbidden potion ingredients.

After nearly two hours of quiet company, he closed his book. The noise of it startled Harry who looked as if he’d been on the brink of dozing off with his glasses tilted sideways on his face.

Snape drew a long breath in and said, “You’ve told the Headmaster.”

Harry nodded. He followed it with a soft sentence that ignited a fury deep inside Snape. “Told him five years back.”

And before Snape could register what was happening, he had pulled a sobbing Harry into a tight hug. A low rumble emanated from his chest as he began to growl. His magic vibrated inside him with rage. Focusing on his breathing and the tears turning the opaque fabric of his shirt into something translucent, Snape calmed himself down.

_ He knew. That old bastard knew this whole time and let Harry go back into the house defenseless, unable to perform magic to protect himself against those Muggles. I have had enough of that old man. _

The sobs turned to small sniffles and eventually, Snape pushed Harry out of the hug.

“I should not have put my faith in Albus.” Rolling his sleeves down and buttoning the cuffs he continued. “If you would like, you may stay here tonight.” Pausing he looked down at Harry who suddenly seemed stronger than his age, as if he’d stood against the world and won. “And you may come here at any point. There is a portrait in the dungeons of Salazar Slytherin. Ten feet to the right is the entrance to my rooms. The password is Pumpkin Juice.”

“Why are you doing that?”

Snape began walking towards his room. Mumbling he said low enough to hope Harry couldn’t hear, “Because Harry, I hardly think you’ve gotten a good night’s sleep in your life.”

_ It is my job to protect you. I will fix this, Harry. _

Waving a hand over his shoulder as he entered his room he said, “You are a wizard. You may transfigure whatever you need for the night. Do not snoop. Again.”

Entering into his bedroom, Snape cast a silencing charm and screamed. Forgoing any sort of potion that would aid his system in removing the copious amount of liquor he’d ingested, he grabbed floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace. Walking through the fireplace in disheveled clothes and with the scent of bourbon clinging to his lips, he stormed into Dumbledore’s office. He was too drunk to notice Harry popping his head into the floo afterward.

Clearing his throat upon seeing Albus sipping his tea he screamed, “I will have your head.”

Albus paused mid-sip, his cup pressed against his suddenly tight lips. His eyes locked on Snape before darting down to the green fire in his fireplace.

Severus cried again, “I will have your head for what you’ve done to Harry.”

Albus did not move but lifted his eyes from the desk to the angry man before him. “Have you had a problem with the boy? You know I care greatly about the success of this operation, Severus.”

“Do not call him that.”

“Pardon?”

“Do not call him “boy”. He’s shared his memories with you, Albus, and still, you trounce around calling him  _ boy _ like that?” Severus scoffed as he began to pace back and forth, eyes never leaving Dumbledore. Throwing an accusatory hand at Albus he said, “This is all just some wicked game to you. Is that right? An  _ operation _ . I will see to it that you end up in Azkaban for what you’ve done to that child.”

Albus grunted, setting the cup down. “I see he has failed another attempt at occluding you.”

“He has not.”

“If he had succeeded, you would not be here near ten at night coming to me with hearsay.”

“He has mastered more than you.” Snape snapped. He stopped pacing and took up an offensive posture near the fireplace. He raised his wand at the headmaster. “It is not hearsay. They are his memories and you’ve been complicit in that boy’s destruction.” Gradually losing his composure, Snape felt his tight vernacular slipping as he wanted to curse out Albus and kill him right there. “I  _ will _ not allow it to continue.”

“What would you have me do? Take the boy away? Place him at Grimmauld place alone where he’s vulnerable? A little bit of roughing up would do the boy good anyway. He’s got an awfully big head for a boy his age, don’t you agree?”

Now screaming at the headmaster, losing the last grip on his composure, and failing to see a very shocked Harry Potter watching Snape show his true colors, Snape stalked closer to Dumbledore until his wand was flush against his throat.

“It is  _ rape, _ Albus. You cannot expect a...a-” Snape cleared his throat and pressed his emotions further inside himself. "You cannot expect a _child_ to endure that sort of torture. From his family, no less."

“It treated you fine, did it not? Had James and Sirius not…”

Albus caught the glimmer of something snapping inside Severus and fell silent. Too caught up in the situation, Snape missed the soft gasp coming from the fireplace.

“Harry has suffered enough at your hands. You will  _ not _ send him to the Dursely’s or you will come to regret it. I have kissed the hems of your robes for years, following your orders and risking my life for your cause but I will be damned if I fail to protect Harry from the same harm I’ve suffered. I’d sooner go back to the Dark Lord tonight and take a second round of crucios than I would let him return to that home.”

A soft smile wrinkled Dumbledore’s expression. “I’ll have you sent to Azkaban if you try it, my dear boy.” Holding up a piece of parchment, Dumbledore said, “I have the letter here ready to send to the ministry.” 

“You have  _ used _ me! Am I no more than a pawn to you? Has my pain, my loss, my  _ suffering _ meant nothing to you, Albus?”

Dumbledore remained silent for a moment, the twinkle vanishing from his eyes and the wrinkles making the stoic expression on his face seem dangerous. The teacup slammed to the desk as Dumbledore stood with the wand still against his throat. 

“No.”

Snape exhaled sharply. “After all these years, Albus.”

After a long pause, Dumbledore said, with hardly any emotion moving his face, “You are a Death Eater, Severus. I am surprised this bothers you.”

“I am _not_. I am not a Death Eater. I am your damned spy! I have bled for you, Albus. I have wept for my losses and for deaths I have had to cause on your orders. I have begged you not to force me to crawl back to the Dark Lord. I have begged for refuge which you have denied me.” More quietly, he whispered, “I have killed for you.”

“Ah, but you did those things all the same. You are a Death Eater, Severus, in all eyes including mine.”

Snape swallowed and felt a painful sorrow explode inside him. “It’s Harry Sodding Potter. How could you believe that this wouldn’t upset me, Albus? Lily’s son…” Stopping himself, Snape realized that it was no longer just Lily’s son that he was protecting. It was Harry. Harry as himself, as a young man deserving of everything the world could offer and none of the responsibilities thrust upon him.

With more conviction, he said, “It’s  _ Harry _ .”

“He is our greatest tool against Voldemort. You are second only to him. Look how much good some adversity has done you. I believed it would do the same to Harry.”

Shuffling a step back but assuming a more aggressive stance, Snape’s forehead tightened in anger. “I trusted you. You were supposed to be different than the Dark Lord. You only want to win. Harry is not your tool, Albus. And adversity has done me no kindness.” Stumbling over his words he said, “Do you care if he’s damaged so long as he can accomplish his task? Do you care if he survives? Do you care about Harry’s life after the war  _ if _ he can live long enough to witness it?”

Crossing his hands over his chest Dumbledore said with an air of annoyance, “What would you have me say? Yes, the boy is a tool to me. I will use him to win this war and if his life is endangered in the process of making him the proper weapon, so be it. I have had to suffer a great many losses before Harry, Severus. His emotional wellbeing is far less important than his life. I do not care about his life after the war, I do not care if he survives it as long as he wins it. I do not even  _ plan _ on him surviving the war. Is that what you’d like to hear?”

Snape grew quiet before whispering, “And of me?”

“I care very little about you or your mistakes, Severus. I am old and have grown tired of your lamenting. Your false sense of morality and nobility seems to always put you in harm's way and interrupt the larger picture of this war. I cannot have you dead yet. I need you at my side, my boy, but you have always been a Death Eater.”

Growling, Snape said, “Send me to Azkaban then. I will  _ not _ allow Harry to go back to that home!”

“I’ll send him home tomorrow if you attempt anything. We both know you are harmless as a fly. Perhaps the liquor has made you this way tonight, my boy.” Snape’s wand fell to his side as he understood the implications. Albus walked around the desk and patted his shoulder. “Good boy.”

Clearing his throat he said, “I expect not to hear of this again. You understand the position I’m in. There are casualties in every war.”

“Harry will not return to that house. I will not allow it.”

“You will, Severus. I think you’ll find it impossible to do anything besides that.” Walking towards a portrait to his own rooms he said, “I think you’ve taken up enough of my time tonight, Severus.” Looking over his shoulder at Severus, before vanishing into the wall he said, “Do be sure to never question me again. Good night.”

Albus left Snape standing in his office bewildered and frustrated. Softly picking up the parchment he read over the lines multiple times before setting it on the desk with a sad shake of his head. Turning to walk back through the fire, he watched the fire shift from green to red. Running into the fire, he found Harry tripping and crashing to the floor at the foot of his bed.

Hauling him up by the collar he said, “I believe I instructed you not to snoop.”

Wiggling free of Snape, Harry sheepishly stood in front of him. “I heard you yell.”

“I cast a spell.”

“Pretty rubbish one.”

Snape paused, wishing to be annoyed but too tired to put on an act. Instead of scolding Harry, he gently said, “Do not make it a habit of yours to come to my rescue.” 

“But I-”

“I do not want to hear your excuses.”

Releasing Harry, Snape let a large breath of air ruffle the dark hair sticking up on Harry's head. The night had caught up with him. Dark eyes looked out from underneath his tired lids and watched as Harry reached out and touched his arm. Snape closed his eyes and let the sharpness of tears prick. Barbed wire wound tightly around his throat as he struggled not to cry. Harry's hand remained firm on his bicep. Focusing on the warmth, the proximity of the young man in front of him, Snape gave into the moment. His rapid pulse slowed and the furious breathing settled. He could practically feel the green eyes grounding him in reality as they stared at him. 

Snape opened his eyes slowly after several long minutes of rooting himself in a remarkably peaceful present. When the dark eyes were lit by a mixture of moonlight and firelight, the warm hand dropped away from his arm. Severus mourned the loss with a twitch of his head and a tightening of his features. Placing a hand on Harry's shoulder he sighed and resumed his normal, aggressive posture. 

"I believe you have had enough excitement tonight."  Stepping out in front of him, Severus walked out of his bedroom door with Harry in tow. "The couch," he motioned and this time Harry lay down. 

Snape grabbed his chocolates and walked back to the bedroom. With a hand on the doorknob, he said, “Thank you for the gift, Harry. These are my favorites.”

Flicking his hand, a luxurious blanket slipped from the top of a bookshelf and landed beside Harry on the couch. Looking over his shoulder at the boy wrapping himself up in the blanket, Snape couldn’t hide the softness overtaking his features. Smiling, he entered his room to enjoy the rest of his birthday in solitude and sleep. At least for the moment, Harry was safe. Severus was certain his rooms were the safest in the entire castle. _Albus, I will keep that boy safe. I will do it with my very life if need be._

**********************************

Harry lay on the couch, staring at the spot where Severus had stood. A warm buzzing moved through his body. A strange sense of awe tingled through him as he blinked back tears. Snape had stood up for him. Snape had threatened Dumbledore. No one before, not Molly or Arthur or Professor McGonagall, not even Poppy had helped him. He had gone to all of the adults with a simple question, "Can you talk to Dumbledore for me?" They had all shaken their heads without even inquiring as to what the problem may be. But now, Harry had witnessed something beautiful. He had witnessed a drunk Severus Snape point his wand at Dumbledore and threaten his life.

_ Bollocks, I knew he  _ **_said_ ** _ he was a force to be reckoned with but I’ve never even heard someone think of raising their wand at Dumbledore.  _

Harry snuggled further into the couch, now staring at the white throw rug covering the stone floors. He blushed as he remembered Snape screaming, wand pointed at Dumbledore. Never in his life had he felt as taken care of or protected as he had in that moment. He began to wonder if there were instances where this sort of thing had happened with Snape before that he had been too ignorant to see. A sort of disappointment in himself reared its ugly head as he thought on all the times he had accused Professor Snape of something or another, absolutely certain that the man was trying to do harm.

_ Show your true colors when you're drunk, hm Snape? _

Flashes of Snape protecting him from the wolf, standing against the marauders and constantly running down the hallways just to discover Harry teetering on the drink of serious danger exploded on the back of his eyelids. Harry's imagination took over and he saw Snape bleeding and gritting his teeth all to protect Harry Potter. Harry saw him enter the classroom with a subtle limp. He could remember all the days his temper was short and his hands were touched with scratches. He had seen blood run down his leg and stick his dress pants to his shin. 

_ No. You show your true colors all the time, don't you? No one bloody bothers to _ _look._

The sorrow cut deeper as Harry glimpsed into the heart of Snape's existence. But then, he remembered the dramatic. The Snape-esque flair and he couldn't help smiling. Harry could practically _hear_ Snape mumbling to himself as he ran down the hallways searching for Harry as he crept closer and closer towards serious trouble. Before he knew it, Harry was laughing.

_ Must drive him insane with how much running he does to keep me safe. Bollocks, I'm keeping him in shape. _

The dark eyes suddenly no longer seemed full of rabid rage but instead fierce concern. The sneer, an endearing farce. A mask to cover up the truth bubbling in the Professor’s heart. But through it all burned a vicious sarcasm, a passionate flair for the dramatics. Harry smiled.

_ Merlin, he isn’t bad at all. Just broken like me. _ Harry smiled as he closed his eyes. Snape’s soft smile, forced down by a frown filled his mind. Then the smile on Harry's face fell away.

He mumbled, "James and Sirius... Fuck. _Fuck_ Snape. And here I thought... I thought you were being petty?"

_ My dad, he… Fuck. And Sirius too. Gods, no wonder he panicked back in the Shrieking Shack. If Vernon just showed up decades from now in a place I thought was home, I’d...I’d... _ Harry took a deep breath to calm the panicked static in his heart.  _ Those people were terrible. I can’t believe my mom betrayed him like that. He was her friend. I'd never do that to Hermione.  Never. _ Harry swallowed around an uncomfortable lump in his throat. _ It doesn’t matter. That doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’ll never be like them. I won’t betray my best friend and I’d never be as cruel as my dad. As James. I'm not like him. I won't be. _

Harry pushed out the images of a sad, crying Snape that was suddenly in the front of his mind. There was something different about this Snape, something Harry knew was not shared with the rest of the world.  _ Maybe… maybe he trusts me. _ He pulled the blanket more tightly around himself, enjoying the thought of Snape trusting him, and waited for the embrace of sleep, hoping that he would see that smile in his dreams. _Well, even if he doesn't, I think he will._ Shaking his head slightly and yawning wide like a lion, Harry thought, _I know I trust him. I trust Snape._ And then, he drifted to sleep, the first peaceful sleep he had in a very long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooo I hope you liked it! Again, please let me know what you think. I'm so happy to be able to give you guys this chapter. Enjoy, enjoy! As a note to my American readers (like me), please remember age of consent in the UK is 16 for future chapters.


	3. Safe Haven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's some happy fluff! Well, kind of. I hope y'all enjoy this chapter. Let me know what you think and thank you for all the love you guys are giving this!

It was eleven at night and the dark fully blanketed the Gryffindor’s quarters. Harry lay on his back with his hands crossed behind his head still sweating from his nightmare. He could hear Ron snoring loudly and Neville mumbling something in his sleep. Sighing heavily, he kept his gaze fixed on the ceiling, watching as colors and spots swam in his vision. _Those two never have nightmares._ In fact, Harry had noticed that no one woke up like he did, hair plastered to forehead in a cold sweat and heart fluttering as if it were trying to escape. Someone in the room grunted and flipped sides. The rustling of sheets sent a shiver down Harry's spine. Something about sharing the room made him feel vulnerable. He felt exposed.

Rolling onto his side, he began tossing and turning from one side to the other, ultimately getting out of bed and sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the footboard and his knees hugged into his chest. In a strange way, he missed his cupboard. It was safe in there, protected. The early days of living with Vernon and company had been the best days. It had been a terrible time, of course, filled with physical and verbal abuse but it hadn’t been until he was ten that the sexual abuse had begun. Regardless, he missed the safe, snug walls of his cupboard. It was his and it was safe.

It had been this way at the Burrow and Grimmauld Place too. Harry hugged his knees more tightly as he remembered Ron giving him trouble for constantly waking up. _Bugger never got it. "But Haaarry, you're safe." Wasn't safe, Ron._ The sharpness in his thoughts came to the surface as bright tears glittering in the small sliver of moonlight landing on his bed. The Weasleys played tricks on him even when he asked them to stop. _Bloody scared me, couldn't you tell, you git?_ Voldemort could reach him. And Vernon... Well, Vernon never left his dreams alone. Harry shook his head to himself. _It's just me, I'm just a freak. Some weird, gay, wizard freak who has a target on his back._

Harry curled in on himself more tightly as he remembered sleeping on Snape’s couch. There had been no desire to curl up, to protect himself.  _ Snape would never intrude. He would never… _ Harry gripped himself tighter as he looked over at Ron and his roommates.  _ What? Snape wouldn’t hurt you but Ron would? _ Something went rotten in his stomach as he doubted his own words. Harry suddenly wasn’t sure about Ron. The panic triggered by the dream began to rise. _No, Ron is a good bloke._ But Harry remembered he hadn't told anyone he was gay yet and with the Slytherin obsession with pureblood, he felt as if it would be dangerous to mention it.

He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as he remembered being doused in ice water one morning at the Burrow. Everyone had laughed so hard they missed Harry sprinting to the bathroom to have a panic attack. _Snape could never be so cruel._ A puff of laughter rang through his head. _No, that bloody git might be stubborn and his words might bite, but he could never be cruel._ _Not him_.

Suddenly feeling as though the ice water had been thrown on him again, Harry curled even tighter, pressing against the footboard until it creaked. He pushed the thoughts away for later, unwilling to remember the moment Vernon doused him every night for a month but to no avail. His memories of Vernon, the last crumbs from his nightmare, marched forward, making him feel ill. Shivering as he remembered the first time Vernon made him strip, Harry felt tears prick his eyes. It had been several months after his tenth birthday and he had been forced to dance for his food while Vernon pleasured himself. _Gods, I was so hungry. So bloody hungry._ _I'd have done anything._ He pressed back against the footboard, feeling more naked now than he had then.

The sexual abuse never stopped. The nightmare this night hadn’t been particularly terrible, but Harry couldn’t calm himself down. He couldn’t feel safe. When Sirius died the year before with Lupin quickly following, Harry had returned to a very hungry Vernon who knew no one could threaten him anymore. That summer had been the worst of Harry’s life. It seemed as if every night he was subjected to the twisted features of that fat man’s face. Harry distinctly remembered trying to reach out to Snape. And Snape had come midway through to deliver him to Grimmauld Place but Harry supposed it was on Dumbledore's orders, not his own frantic attempts.

_ Not good enough at legilimency yet for that though. Rubbish attempt. _

Swallowing thickly, Harry clenched his eyes shut and rubbed his palms across the back of them, hoping to push away the remnants of the dream and its memories. He couldn’t shake the feeling of Vernon’s hand wrapped tightly around his throat as he rammed into him. He couldn’t forget his hands scratching at Vernon’s as his vision narrowed into a tunnel. Harry trembled as he brought his own hand to his throat in an attempt to shake the feeling of the meaty fingers squeezing the life out of him.

Breathing quickly, Harry pressed his face against his knees as his hands covered up the back of his neck. The nightmares always did this, always made him feel as if Vernon were about to storm into his room.

On the verge of a nervous breakdown, Harry remembered Snape’s offer.

_ He couldn’t have meant it. Git was probably just being courteous, doubt he cares enough to let me stay in his quarters. A Gryffindor inside the head of house for Slytherin? I don’t think so. _

But Harry couldn’t stop the fear from building. He was trembling furiously and his eyes were darting around in the dark.

_ I’ll just go check. I’ll check if he was serious. He did get pretty mad with Dumbledore that night. If the password doesn’t work, I’ll just come back. No loss. _

Harry remembered a flitting moment where he thought he’d seen care and compassion in Snape’s eyes. His pink tongue darted out to wet his lips, a nervous habit, as he eased himself out of the bed. The image of Snape wide-mouthed with tendons popping along his neck as he threatened Dumbledore gave Harry the strength to keep moving forward towards the dungeons. Quietly grabbing his invisibility cloak and casting a notice-me-not charm on himself anyway, he slunk down to the dungeons.

_ Not even Snape’s that good of an actor. _ A quieter,  _ I hope, _ rang through his mind as Harry desperately wished he could fully trust Snape. The unfortunate fact was that he just wasn’t sure and he knew Snape’s cunning and intelligence far outweighed his own. The cool air of the dungeon slipped through the thin fabric of the invisibility cloak as he descended the stairs. With it came a cold sense of calm. 

As of late, Gryffindor Tower felt less and less like home to him. His friends judged him and whispered when they thought he wasn’t listening. He knew the headaches and frequent nightmares had become more than just a nuisance to the rest.  _ Think I’m in cahoots with Voldemort. As if. They have no clue what I'm dealing with. _ Despite his attempts to calm their concerns, at the end of the day, Harry had to simply pretend everything was fine. Grit his teeth and act as though he weren't in agony day and night.

Harry scattered the thoughts with a rough turn of his head to check the upcoming corridor. No one was there and he kept moving, listening to the light clop of his shoes on the stone floor. Heading ever closer to Snape’s quarters, Harry thought back on the summer with a small grin.  _ Bloody enjoyed Snape’s company. Bugger was the only one who stayed quiet. _ The order had been buzzing all throughout Grimmauld Place and Harry only endured a month before he began to sneer at everyone like the most hated professor. Now, he couldn’t help but chuckle. 

_ They were just so...animated.  _ Harry recalled the Weasleys running and screaming, the members of the order bickering and laughing, and Hermione scoffing and arguing everywhere she went. There were days where Harry would desperately catch Snape’s eyes and the two would leave to the yard simply to sit where the chaos was little more than a muffled whisper. 

The joy quickly left his features when he saw a large portrait of Salazar Slytherin.  _ Okay, Harry. Time to test it. _

Leaning in low, he gathered his courage and whispered, “Pumpkin Juice.”

The portrait moved aside and let him enter. Slipping into the quarters still with the invisibility cloak on, he saw Snape sitting beside the fireplace with a stack of graded papers beside him and a cup of coffee floating freely in the air next to him. The dark eyes didn’t remove themselves from the last page of the last essay he was grading as he spoke.

He said, “Take off that wretched cloak.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Suppressing a grin, Harry slipped the cloak off and made to sit on the couch when Snape stood and blocked his path. The lean man exuded such a presence that Harry felt as if the only two people in the world were he and Snape. Turning his eyes upward, Harry couldn’t help but admire the collarbones and strong shoulders. Snape stood in front of Harry with such authority Harry felt as though he ought to sit down, only the couch was behind the professor.

Without tilting his head down, only shifting his eyes Snape said, “Where are you going?”

Harry suddenly noticed the rich smell of Snape. A strange urge to bury his head in the fabric in front of him and nuzzle had his heart hammering in his chest. 

“I...I thought I’d sit on the couch. I don’t know, you said-”

“It is well after eleven."

“I know.”

The dark eyes continued pinning Harry to his spot. Only a few inches separated the men. Already, Harry was realizing he liked it here.  _ Please,  _ **_please_ ** _ don’t make me leave. _ Something softened in Snape’s features and Harry’s breath had slowed and the deep terror had begun to fade.

“I believe you need more than a couch.”

Harry’s eyebrows wrinkled in confusion as his eyes narrowed behind the wire-rimmed glasses. The lithe body glided in a way only Snape could manage towards a door Harry never noticed before. If he didn’t know better, he thought he caught the trace of excitement in Snape’s features. 

Motioning to the door, Snape began to look impatient. Harry quickly hurried over.

“Are you all right?”

Harry looked down.

_ No. Bloody far from it.  _

Blurting out a theory he hadn’t run past anyone, Harry blurted out, “I think Voldemort is using my memories to give me nightmares.”

Blinking down at Harry, Snape’s features remained cool and unreadable. “That may be the most intelligent thing I have ever heard come out of your mouth, Mr. Potter.” 

_ A joke? Blimey, he can joke. _

A small grin cracked Harry’s features. By the minute, he was feeling better though he was still terrified to sleep.

“You may sit with me for if you’d like but I thought you may need something more appropriate than a couch if you were to stay here.”

Without motioning again towards the closed door the two now stood in front of, Snape sighed. Snape continued to glare at Harry with annoyance and impatience coloring his features, but the young wizard could see something twinkling in those eyes. 

With an overly dramatic sigh, Snape said, "Fine, I will open it."  Grabbing the doorknob and pushing the door open, Snape casually leaned against the doorway. Harry’s jaw dropped. Behind the door sat a sizable room with a large bed in the middle. To the right of the room, a plain, honey-colored dresser sat beneath a mirror. To the left, the same honey-colored wood created a small desk no doubt for homework. 

Atop the dresser was a small snitch, a muggle clock colored red with a light gold face and black hands, and the book Harry had begun reading the last time he visited. Sitting underneath a silver bow on the desk was what Harry knew could only be chocolates. 

Stepping into the room, he kicked off his shoes and nearly moaned when his feet touched the dark red throw rug covering the same dark wooden floors as in Snape’s room. Sitting on the edge of the bed blanketed in a thick red duvet, Harry soaked up the glory of the stone room. As he turned his head skyward, he saw a Gryffindor lion carved into the amber stone of the ceiling and painted in reds and pale yellows. 

_ All this… It’s mine? He went to this trouble for me? _

Looking back down to Snape, he saw the man standing sheepishly with his hands stuffed into his pockets and his head down. The shadow of his hair barely hid the color rising on his cheeks. The shoulders slumped slightly, pulling the green form-fitting sweater forward enough to reveal the hollows outside his collarbones.

_ He’s nervous. Severus Snape, nervous.  _

Snape cleared his throat and asked, “Is it adequate?”

“Adequate?”

_ Adequate? Merlin, Snape this is the best thing I’ve ever received.  _

“Yes. Does it meet your likings?”

“Professor this is the best thing I’ve ever seen! I can’t believe you went to all this trouble for me.”

Snape righted himself, the blush creeping down his neck as he saw the joy sparkling in Harry's eyes. “It wasn’t any trouble. Though, the garish colors certainly clash with my better judgment.”

“Thank you.”

Pushing off from the door frame, Snape headed back towards the living area. 

“You may join me for some coffee if you’d like.”

Harry followed behind him, casting a last glance at the gorgeous room.

“Isn’t it late for caffeine?”

“Merlin, you think I would give you caffeine under any circumstances?”

The unadulterated horror in Snape’s eyes had Harry gripping his sides in laughter, completely forgetting about the terror of his nightmare. He missed the smile on Snape’s lips as he turned back to the coffee and poured Harry a mug. 

Handing the delicate-looking white mug with silver swirls across its side to Harry he said, “Do try not to destroy this.”

“I’m wounded. Do you think-”

“After the sheer number of cauldrons I have personally watched you detonate, I do not think, Harry, I  _ know _ .”

_ So it isn’t a fluke. He’s using my name. My real name, not this Potter crap. And he **is** joking with me. _

Harry followed him to the armchair where he noticed a secondary armchair had been placed near the fire. Sitting down, he waggled his eyebrows at Snape as he pretended to drop the cup. He earned an eye roll and an incoherent grumble.

_ Does anyone else know Snape’s this funny? He’s a completely different person than in the classroom.  _

The two sat in pleasant silence for another awhile before Snape closed his book and looked into Harry’s eyes. Harry looked up to find anger and worry mingling in them before Snape raised his walls and blocked the young wizard out from understanding.

“Why did you come here tonight?”

Harry looked down. “Ron was snoring.”

“If my job as a spy is to decipher when some powerful wizard is lying, what makes you believe that you, a 16-year-old wizard will be able to fool me? You have lied to me for years, Harry. I am well-versed in your tells.”

“I have tells?”

Severus smugly sipped his drink as Harry realized he practically just admitted he’d been lying.

“All right. I was having a rough night.”

Snape said nothing. Instead, he brought the mug to his lips and finished off his coffee, banishing the empty mug to the kitchen with a wave of his hand. Motioning towards himself, a book gently floated off one of the two tall, narrow bookcases framing the door to his bedroom. 

_ Dumbledore said he was a powerful wizard but wandless magic?  _ **_That_ ** _ easily?  _

Harry refocused his attention on the book resting in Snape’s lap. The onyx eyes rested on Harry awhile longer who began to feel a strange, silent sympathy rolling off the man across from him. The eyes followed Snape’s head as he lowered it to the now open book. Harry caught a glimpse of the title, “A History of the Dark Arts.” Frowning, Harry was about to say something when Snape’s low voice rumbled through the quiet. He was reading to Harry. 

About to make a fuss about how he didn’t need a bedtime story, Harry saw a blush creep across the cheeks for the second time that night. Elegant fingers stained blue today from some potion, tucked the long hair behind his ear as he continued reading. The dark eyes quickly flickered up to Harry’s as if seeking permission before flashing back down to the page. Harry’s heart fluttered. The voice read steadily and Harry found himself relaxing into its low timbre. How many times had he listened to Snape teach? How many times had he heard Snape rattle off potion ingredients? He’d heard this voice every day for years, scolding him, defending him, teaching him, and now, amidst his terror, the voice calmed him. He _knew_ this voice.

Setting his back against the velvet chair, Harry closed his eyes. Here, he was safe. Here he could let the memories of Vernon go and listen to that voice wrap him in silky tones of protection.

_ Ron’d lose his mind if he saw this. Hermione’d probably fall in love with the git.  _ **_That_ ** _ would drive Ron crazy. But who wouldn’t?  _ Harry let his mind wander as he began to slip into the world of sleep.  _ Bugger got me chocolates. Decorated my room with everything I like. Now… Now he’s reading to me. Wonder what he went through to get it. Snape… Merlin. You  _ **_get_ ** _ it.  _ Harry yawned wide as Snape continued reading something about Salazar.  _ Maybe he’s a good man. Maybe I was… _

As Harry fell more deeply into the pool of sleep, he saw the images of James and the Marauders from the Pensieve. He really did look just like Harry and Harry couldn’t help seeing himself in those shoes practically killing Snape. Snape who maybe was a bit of an arse but completely undeserving of such brutality. 

_ Why’d they do that to him? He was just… He’s just… _

Harry thought back to memories and felt a terrible pang of guilt pull him closer to wakefulness. Wondering about how Snape was in his youth, Harry had a terrible feeling that Severus had always been this way. Quiet, gentle, and dangerously intelligent.

_ He’s just a good man who wants to love. _

With that thought, Harry focused back on the voice and drifted to sleep with images of patronuses floating through his mind and ancient duels between famous wizards. 

A gentle hand on Harry’s shoulder woke him with a gentle squeeze some time later. Starting, Harry’s eyes darted in all directions until they landed on a tired-looking Snape who withdrew his hand.

“What time is it?”

Snape cocked his head slightly as his hands found their pockets again. “Late.”

Quietly, Snape walked to the back area of the kitchen. As he rummaged through the closet hidden there, Harry looked down at his watch. One a.m. Snape had read to him for nearly an hour and a half. Pulling something from the cabinet with a clunk, he presented a Pensieve to Harry. 

“You may take this back to your rooms. If you’d like to empty your memories into it, they will stay safe. Rest assured I will not peek.”

Harry looked up at Snape, ready to thank his professor, but found he was staring at the strong back walking away from him. He admired the perfect posture, the strange way it showed what sort of man Snape was, until it vanished behind the door with a click. 

Looking back down to the Pensieve, he put his wand to his temple and emptied the terrible memory into it. Turning his gaze away from the pool of liquid, Harry sighed. Taking the Pensieve back to his bedroom, he set it atop the desk. 

Turning down the sheets, Harry was about to slip under the covers in his clothes but paused. Walking over to the dresser, he pulled the dresser drawers open to clothes. Even Molly hadn’t gotten him this many clothes. Red, mustard, and white jumpers sat neatly folded in the top drawer. Running his fingertips over them he nearly cried at the softness of them. The other drawers held a few pants, tee shirts, and other garments. The bottom most drawer held pajama pants and lounging pants, green and black.

“That sly little…”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh as he slipped on a pair of black pajama pants. Taking his shirt off, excited by the actual privacy of the room, Harry slipped into bed without even erecting charms and spells to keep him safe and unheard. 

Harry fell asleep sure that he was safe.

*************************************************************

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning wide, Harry felt the stirrings of being awake tickle his brain. Stretching his arms overhead, he groaned as his muscles pulled and blood pumped through his waking body. Grabbing his wand first, he lifted the darkness off the large window behind his bed, letting a stream of golden light into the room. 

He closed his eyes against the light. It washed over him and quickly warmed his exposed torso. The sheets pooled at his hips with puddles of shadow and light. Cradling his hands behind his head, Harry took a moment to appreciate how warm he was inside and out. He could practically feel the magic humming through the walls of this place. Harry knew, without a doubt, that he would never be unsafe here. With his eyes still closed he held out his hand and called his glasses to him.

The thick mattress supported him as he cozied down into it. Even the beds in Gryffindor Tower felt like cheap straw mattresses in comparison to this bed. Wiggling his toes, Harry yawned again. Grabbing his watch off the nightstand, he fastened it across his wrist without paying attention to whatever it read. He snuggled deeper into the bed. This all felt like what people called home. He felt like he was home and the magic buzzing around him didn't help his case any. 

Harry had never felt anything like it. He supposed it was leftover magic from whatever Snape did to this room but it was warm and sweet like summer cherries dropped onto icecream. It galloped across his skin like winter sunshine. Still lying in bed, Harry scootched lower and let out a small hum of gratification. It felt nice. It had been a long time since Harry had felt something nice. 

Opening his eyes as a gentle breeze rolled through the room, he pulled the sheets up to his chin. Looking up at the sun illuminating the shadows of the lion in the ceiling, he smiled. This place felt distinctly his. The breeze intensified and Harry frowned at the gustiness of the dungeon quarters. The temperature began to drop all around him.

Aggravated by the wind, Harry swung his feet out of the bed and quickly changed into some of the lounging clothes Snape had provided him. As he tugged on a form-fitting jumper in dark maroon, he wondered why a man he’d thought hated him had gone to so much trouble. Even though he was a wizard, and a strong one at that, Harry knew that this work had taken a great deal of time and effort. It had put Snape out on a ledge. It had proven to Harry that Snape cared about him in some capacity, that he had a heart. Snape had opened himself up not only for disappointment but for mockery. Harry distinctly felt like he was valued in between these walls, more valued than he had ever felt at Privet Drive, the Burrow, or Grimmauld Place.

Shimmying into a pair of darker jeans, Harry silently thanked Snape for giving him muggle clothes. _It's been entirely too long since I had a pair of jeans._ He let out a groan heavy with satisfaction as he ran his hands over the denim covering his thighs. _Fucking finally._

Then, suddenly, Harry was caught up on how kind of a gesture getting muggle clothes, clearly tailored to his size, was. He began thinking about all of Snape’s actions he’d witnessed. Everything had a purpose, every word the man said was a veiled way of providing comfort. 

_ We’re all just too dumb to see it. No wonder the git wants to smack us. _

Harry laughed to himself. Shaking his head, he looped a sleek black belt through the loops, happy to finally have some clothes he knew and loved. Molly never bought him jeans no matter how much he wanted them. He grew up a muggle, he  _ liked _ the muggle outfits and they liked him. 

Looking in the mirror, Harry stumbled a step back. His eyes were clear. The bags had vanished. His hair had even begun to stick out at odd angles again.

To himself, he mumbled, “No nightmares.” 

The breeze continued gusting until he opened the door. Then the air stopped moving around his neck, stopped tossing his hair around like a toy. Harry was met with Snape’s back.

Snape sat at a small table, enough for four to eat dinner relatively comfortably. His posture pulled the black turtleneck taught across the muscles of his back with the dark hair just ghosting over his shoulders. A slender hand brought a silver mug up to his mouth, revealing a dark red bruise wrapping around his wrist.

“Good morning, Mr. Potter.”

The voice crackled through the air like a downed wire. Harry gulped. 

“Morning.”

Harry stood frozen in his spot as he stared at the mark. The elegant sleeve covered up the bruise as the hand lightly set the cup on the table. 

_ What’s happened to him? Is he always so banged up? _

Harry thought back to the first night he’d stayed and how Snape had a bruise tucked under his hair and a terrible tremble in his hands from an unforgivable. He stood and stared at the hand wondering what happened to Snape when he left Harry's sight. Harry couldn't fight down the urge to keep this man safe.

Snape tucked his wand back up his sleeve so subtly Harry nearly missed it. Suddenly realizing there was absolutely no wind in this area of the rooms, Harry looked back to his room. Crossing his arms across his chest, Harry huffed, half laughing. 

“That was you, huh?”

Snape’s lips twitched upwards as he briefly turned his head to the side, not quite looking at Harry but still allowing him to see some of his face as he smirked, “Whatever do you mean?”

Harry was about to roll his eyes when plates of food popped up on the table. Harry’s mouth began watering. This was an american spread of food. Bacon, waffles, a bowl of berries, toast, eggs, juice, and a tall carafe of freshly pressed coffee littered the table. Harry stood looking at the food from aways behind Snape until Severus groaned and set the coffee down on the table.

Without turning to look at Harry, Snape waved him over saying, “Are you going to stand there all morning?” With less bite to his words he continued. “Come eat.”

Harry shuffled over and pulled out a chair across from Snape whose eyes were now clearly plastered to some ancient book. Severus still looked tired to Harry, but there was something younger about the dark eyes. Briefly, they flicked up from the book to stare at Harry as he scooped food onto his plate. Harry paused.

Even when he ate at Hogwarts, it was nothing as decadent as this. He watched carefully as Snape continued staring at him.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?”

“I’ve eaten.”

Looking down at the waffles and strawberries on his plate, Harry suddenly felt as if he were intruding. The food looked delicious but to Harry, all he could see was a student imposing on a professor’s limited free time.  Harry licked his lips, preparing his next move when he was cut off by Snape.

“Those rascal friends of yours will be interested in your whereabouts. You may want to eat your food quickly instead of staring at it.”

Harry laughed lightly but couldn’t seem to move. He had  _ never _ seen so much food in his life and certainly never seen so much for him.

“Is something the matter?”

Harry looked down at his still nearly empty plate. “No, I just… Guess I’m not used to seeing so much food.”

The dark eyes glinted as they danced over several plates and bowls of food. Severus nodded to himself before drawing in a heavy breath. With that, Snape set his book on the table and vanished into another room.

As Harry chomped on the delicious food, he squinted his eyes at the partially open door Snape had disappeared into. A glint of metal shined back at him and he was sure he could see vials of potions. A fleeting desire to run in there and steal as much dreamless sleep as he could tickled at his mind before he banished it. Harry had betrayed Snape enough in the past years. He didn’t want to do it again. He didn’t want to be selfish like his father.

Instead, Harry ate his meal, clearing away a good portion of the food quickly. Snape returned shortly after Harry cleared his plate. His eyebrows leapt skyward as he saw the empty stack of plates. Harry blushed.

“I should probably get back to Ron and Hermione.”

Snape’s expression fell flat. “Yes.” 

Neither man moved for a moment, Harry said, "Um, thanks for all this. Really."

Snape said nothing but something tormented danced across his face for a moment. Pulling a handful of vials from his pocket he offered them up to Harry. 

_ Nutrition potions and dreamless sleep? _

“I suppose you are the brat that stole these from Poppy.”

Opening his mouth to answer, Harry found only a swirl of black cloaks as Snape walked away. Harry took the potions, quickly pocketing them before raising his head to see Snape’s back disappear back into the lab. Looking back to the plates, he was surprised to see they had already gone back to the kitchen with the elves. Casting one last look towards the lab, Harry felt at odds. He didn’t want to go back to his friends. He didn’t want to go to Hogsmeade where he would have to pretend to laugh and act as if the fate of the world wasn’t resting on his shoulders. He wanted to stay here, with Snape.

_ Get ahold of yourself, Harry. This isn’t your home and neither is Gryffindor Tower.  _ A terrible sinking feel settled in his stomach. _ Your home is with the Dursleys. You're a freak and you **can't** belong anywhere. You know that. _

Gathering his things from the room, he took a last look at the gorgeous room that settled in his heart as "home". Staving off the tears with a fierce clench of his jaw, he walked away with a soft click locking away a future he thought he couldn't have. He quickly walked across the room towards the exit. Pausing, he rolled the potions around in his jeans pockets. He closed his eyes and breathed in the rich scent of Snape's quarters before deciding that he would never interrupt Snape again. _I know I'm unwanted._

As he moved to walk through the opening in the wall he heard Snape's low voice cut across the thick air in the dungeon room, "Mr. Potter... Harry." Harry gulped and stiffened. "You are always welcome here. Take care not to leap to some...misinformed...conclusion." 

Harry whipped around, hoping to see some expression on Snape's face but was only met with the clack of dress shoes on stone and black hair snapping behind his professor as he disappeared into his lab. Harry smiled to himself and left the room thinking, _All right, then, Snape. I'll be back._ He shivered as the dungeon air hit him. _I'll come home._


	4. Potions Over Hogsmeade?

Severus paced back and forth across his living room. He needed to get Harry out of his thoughts or risk losing the brat to the Dark Lord. Harry occupied more space in Snape's mind that he was comfortable with admitting and since his birthday night fiasco with Dumbledore, Severus no longer felt protected at Hogwarts. Dumbledore had begun watching him in a strange new fashion and the Dark Lord had begun asking questions as if he had found out Severus was revolted by the cause. _Harry will be my bloody end._ Absentmindedly rubbing at his wrist, Severus thought back to the night prior. Just as he was reaching out to wake a sleeping Harry, he’d felt the familiar burn of the Dark Mark on his forearm. 

From there, he’d been summoned, hexed, bound magically and physically, and promptly beaten for something Lucius wouldn’t divulge. He could see something like pity mixed with hurt in the Malfoy's eyes, however. Snape wondered if Voldemort had spoken to him in private. _Lucius must know. He has suspected me for far longer than the rest._ When he met with the Dark Lord, he received no new instructions though, throughout their conversation, the Dark Lord had been prodding at his mind to find any secrets. Severus ensured there were none. Before he left, he had been able to convince the Dark Lord that Albus was none the wiser to his true allegiance. After a long silence, Lucius was waved away and Severus knew he had dodged his death once again. This time, just barely. On a coin toss that had taken place in a different room.

The encounter sat wrong in his stomach and he hadn’t had a wink of sleep after he returned. His dreams were filled with the Dark Lord's suspicions, Albus’s own wayward plans, and gruesome images of Harry’s death. When he left his bed a touch before five in the morning after only three hours of fitful rest, he knew the weekend would be a struggle.

To top it all off, Severus had been too busy brewing for Poppy and St. Mungo’s to replenish his own healing salves and potions. He half believed that Albus had put them up to it. Without time to brew the potions, his own survival was at risk. He didn't even have a basic healing salve to take care of the injuries. As such, his morning breakfast with Harry Potter had been...difficult. Every move burned him. Every casual quip reignited the pain again. He hissed to himself as he cursed out Lucius for his knowledge in magical torture. _Insolent first-years have more potions stored than I._ Severus trembled with rage and pain at the disparity of his situation. _A potions master without a single healing draught, a single salve to heal a cut. Severus, you are truly pathetic._

Stalking off to the built-in lab, he quickly checked the time the salve had left on it and sighed. He would be spending this entire weekend restocking his inventory, and that was if everything brewed according to plan. In all actuality, it would most likely take him the entire weekend plus a day or two. _I shall forgo sleep until I have these potions finished. In the event I am not as fortunate as last night, I'd like..._ Severus stopped and paused as he stared at the potion brewing. A tiny voice in his head said _You'd like Harry to find you? Find you with a fighting chance?_

Scoffing, he rolled his eyes. More firmly, he told himself, _I would **like** to be able to heal efficiently from these beatings._ As it was, the magical bindings wrapped around his wrists had done a number on him. He still couldn’t feel the tips of his fingers like he wanted and a terrible burn raced across the dark red bruises. The toxic magic running through his body felt as though it were eviscerating him. 

Sitting off the edge of one of the tables, he looked at the simmering red potion. In another few minutes, it would turn forest green and he would be able to apply it to his pained wrist and chest. Sighing to himself, he looked up at the dark ceiling, his low pony-tail inching further down his back. A few straggler hairs fell out, framing his frowning face in black. 

_ Albus has done something. He has certainly done something to cause the Dark Lord’s trust in me to waiver. _

He crossed his feet at the ankle as he leaned and pushed his sleeves up a touch higher before slipping his hands into his pockets. His white shirt stuck out from beneath his black outfit around his neck, hugging the angles of his Adam's apple.

_ If I can keep Harry close to me, for the time being, I’ll be able to ensure his safety until I discover what Albus has done and what he is planning to do. I fear he is willing to sacrifice Harry to the Dark Lord now if it means victory. He is most certainly losing his patience. _

Severus scowled more deeply, unaware of a timid Harry standing at the doorway to the Potions Lab, peering around the door frame. 

_ I am certain Harry is correct about the Dark Lord’s manipulation of his dreams. If he is fatigued, he is vulnerable. Especially so to the imperius and any sort of legilimency. It would be all too easy to manipulate him into destroying all we’ve worked to establish in the wake of the last war. Then, of course, Harry would be killed. _

He signed with a grunt before pushing off the table and tending to the salve. 

_ Always a headache with that brat. _

Placing the salve into smooth glass containers, Severus charmed it quickly to cool it enough so that it wouldn’t burn his skin. Dipping two fingers into the salve, he scooped it onto his skin, hissing in pain. Clenching his jaw and baring his teeth as he rubbed the salve in, Severus balled his free hand into a fist.

Of all the potions and salves he used, this one was his least favorite. It brewed quickly and worked effectively but it increased the pain one hundredfold as it healed. Of course, the pain was magnified even more when it healed magical injuries. Hunched over the table, he steadied his breathing before wiping his fingers on a towel and scooping salve with his other hand. Looking down at his left wrist, he grit his teeth and prepared himself.

This one had considerably more damage done to it and had even been bleeding on and off throughout the night. The magical wounds he sustained working as a Death Eater always struggled to heal and rarely would scab over unless a potion was involved. Severus held the glob of salve on his hand, sweating now from the pain still radiating through his right wrist as it healed. His tongue shot out to lick his lips as he stared down at the shimmering wound wrapping around his slender wrist.

_ In for a knut… _

Mumbling to himself he said, “I am no coward,” before slathering the salve all across the injured left wrist. 

Clenching his fists and teeth tight, Severus focused on his breathing. A pallor crept across his face where the shadows of the tight jaw muscles gave him a deathly demeanor. As the pain reached a crescendo, Severus, thinking himself alone, slammed his fist down on the table with a resounding “dammit” before closing his eyes.

Not three seconds later, he heard someone scuttle into the room. A warm hand wrapped around his wrist.

_ Harry. _

Though he wished to jerk the limb away and slap who he assumed was Harry across the face, the warm hand grabbing onto him did help soothe the pain. He stayed with his eyes shut and hands leaning on the table. His measured but still ragged breathing filled the quiet room. Harry’s hand on his wrist felt so nice. Severus couldn’t remember the last time he had been comforted in a moment of pain, that was if it had ever happened at all. 

Finally opening his eyes and pulling his wrist out of Harry’s grasp, Severus looked over to the young wizard staring up at him. Straightening himself out and smoothing down his clothing, Severus walked over to a sink and washed the remnants of the salve off.

Harry’s voice hesitantly broke through the quiet with a tremble. “Aren’t there better salves out there?”

Pushing the bubbles off his skin Severus said, “It would seem Poppy and St. Mungo’s have sole possession of those at the moment.”

“Oh.”

Drying his hands, Severus turned and began shooing Harry into the living room and out of his laboratory. Glancing up at the wall clock on the way out of his potion’s lab, a frown knit his eyebrows together. It was just a scrape after noon and Harry should have been out with his friends on his way to Hogsmeade.

“Why are you here?”

Harry shifted from side to side before Snape pushed him gently towards the couch where he sat with a rough plop. 

“Do not destroy my furniture. Why are you  _ here _ ?”

Snape walked off towards the kitchen, grabbing himself a glass of cold water. Rolling down his sleeves, he wiped his brow of its sweat and stood in the kitchen, watching the back of Harry’s head. Pain still throbbed in his wrists.

"Instead of Hogsmeade?"

"Yes," Severus hissed, his agitation apparent.

“I didn’t really feel like going.”

“No?”

“No. Just a lot, I guess.”

Snape remained quiet, he could see Harry fidgeting. 

Harry continued. “It’s just that everyone goes there to have a good time but I’m always being watched. The professors, the patrons at the stores, everybody. Everybody is watching me and I have to pretend that I don’t see them watching. I have to laugh and act like I’m oblivious to all the eyes on me. I hate it.” 

Harry was practically yelling as he continued. “No one else notices but I do. Any one of those eyes looking at me could have a wand pointed at me, ready to drop me dead. I go out to have fun with my friends but they’re just going through stores and eating candy while I’m scanning the whole room trying to figure out if there’s a Death Eater nutcase trying to do me in. And I swear, since I’ve started with the nightmares there are a lot more stares.”

Snape walked around the couch and stood several feet in front of Harry with his glass of water still in hand. 

“You seemed to have no issue  _ having fun _ while I chaperoned those nightmare escapades.”

“See that’s different.” Harry’s eyes were wide as they mirrored Snape’s shock. “No, I mean that if you’re there, I know…” 

_ Yes, Potter. What do you know? _

Harry had snagged Snape’s curiosity. Harry’s mouth hung open in a sort of half-smile as he looked to be rolling the next words over his tongue carefully, seeing how they would taste. Severus narrowed his eyes slightly, curious beyond all belief as to what Harry could possibly know.

Leaning back into the couch and pulling in a bit on himself, he said, “I guess I know I’m safe. You’re really good at Defense and you’re a master legilimens so you must know what’s happening all the time plus…” Harry turned red in an embarrassment as he locked his gaze on Snape. Severus sucked in a quiet breath, amazed at the sincerity and passion bleeding from those green eyes.

_ Not like Lily’s at all. She was so docile. He’s so...vibrant. No, those are not Lily’s eyes. How anyone could think so is absurd. _

“Plus you’re a Death Eater. They won’t send someone else to kill me if you’re already there.”

_ He thinks. The boy thinks! And still, he trusts a ragged rat like me.  _

Severus stood stiffly wondering exactly what had happened to the Harry he used to loathe and when the boy had stopped jumping to conclusions and become a man. Sipping on his water until it was empty, he banished the glass to the kitchen. Harry stood and peered from under his brows up at the taller man. With his hands extended palm up, he sighed. 

“Look, I’m sorry if I ruined your weekend. If you want, I could help with potions.”

Severus looked down at the brilliant emerald eyes. He couldn’t find a trace of ridicule waiting to spring out of them. Turning on his heel he talked with his back facing Harry as he walked towards the lab. He couldn’t believe that Harry not only  _ trusted _ him but offered to brew with him.

“If you are to stay here for the remainder of this weekend, you should make yourself useful indeed. You may be abysmal at potions but under my supervision, I believe you will be able to at least brew a few basic healing salves and potions. Are you certain you’d rather spend your weekend brewing?”

“With you? Sounds like a blast.”

Severus rolled his eyes.

“Are you rolling your eyes? It  _ feels _ like you’re rolling your eyes.”

With a grumble, he welcomed Harry into his favorite room of the house, his laboratory.

“Don’t be a brat.”

Harry said nothing, only let a mischievous grin spread across his face. Severus tightened his posture in agitation but in truth, he was hiding the joy bubbling up in his belly. He didn’t want Harry to know how personal and private this room was to him. For the greater part of his life, he’d been locked away brewing alone. These walls felt like a second skin. Every phial, every cauldron, every ingredient felt like a small piece of him. The room welcomed him even as he stood uncomfortably, afraid that Harry would mock this most sacred part of his life.

_ Harry Potter. I never would have believed he would be the first to see these rooms. _

“Merlin, it’s gorgeous in here. It’s so much better than the classroom.”

“It is my personal lab. I appreciate a tidy space.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t tidy. It’s…” Harry waved his hands in the space around him as he took a stroll around the room. He eyed the glass jars full of solvents and ingredients with a grim smile on his face. As much as Severus would have liked to think Harry was miserable, something about him looked at home in the potions lab. Turning quickly back around and walking down the main aisle, Harry said, “It’s bloody brilliant in here. This where you host all your parties?”

Severus blushed. “No.”

Harry shook his head. “Well, anyway. I’m sure Professor McGonagall likes it in here.” He made a show of narrowing his eyes and pushing his glasses up on his nose. “It’s perfectly respectable.”

Severus snorted. Harry did do a good imitation of her. A small sadness obscured the light warming his spirit. No one had bothered to come here. No one had asked to see no matter how many hints he dropped. Only a few people had even entered into his quarters or his home, after all. He could count them on one hand. The only one to ever show any interest was Lucius and he could not enter Hogwarts. 

“I assure you, Minerva has better things to do than busy herself with this drivel.”

The green eyes blinked slowly. "She hasn't seen it." Snape remained quiet, eyes piercing through Harry. He adjusted his glasses and sighed with a small shake of his head as if arguing with himself about something. “Drivel.” His head moved towards the ornately decorated wood of the ceiling. “Well, I fancy it, anyway. Not that a Potter’s opinion matters all too much here.” He barked out a laugh and walked towards Snape. “What am I brewing?” 

“Something you cannot destroy.”

Snape waved over a piece of parchment and a quill. As he scrawled out the potions, ingredients, and quick directions for Harry on a piece of parchment, he couldn’t help lifting his eyes and looking at his lab. This had been his home for decades and now he was finally welcoming someone new into it. Not even Albus had entered this room. No one else cared enough to see it. No one else had even thought about brewing with him. Now here Harry was, asking to be let into this special part of his life.

Nothing would feel the same again. 

“Do not cause an eruption.”

He walked away after shoving the paper with the directions at Harry. Moving towards a line of empty tables, he quickly set up two silver cauldrons and one copper for the longer potions. It would of course mean more work and careful attention to detail, but he was certain he could manage it for the time being. Flicking his wand, Severus illuminated the entire room in an even light not so bright as to hurt the eyes but not so dim that he couldn’t see his ingredients or potion. 

Coming back over to Harry with a silver cauldron, he was pleased to see Harry looking down at the paper Severus had handed him, reading it thoroughly. The green eyes looked up with a smile as Severus turned to walk away. 

“I won’t. Wouldn’t want to ruin this place. You know,” Harry set the paper down on a table, “this really is a gorgeous room. If our potion’s classroom looked like this, I don’t know if I’d ever leave. This really is beautiful. I’d bet you like spending your time here. Feels like it.”

Severus looked at Harry suddenly, whipping his head around as if someone had pointed a wand at him. Searching for some sort of prank and finding only sincerity, Severus felt heat rushing to his face. Blushing, he turned his head away as he caught a sly grin starting to form on Harry’s face.

Mumbling, Snape said, “Thank you.”

He had spent months designing the layout of the room. Cauldrons were lined along the back wall beneath several shelves of potion books and paraphernalia. The shelves themselves were dark wood with silver accents and ornately carved designs sat in every corner of the room. Snape looked over all his personal ingredients that he had either grown or collected over the years. Jars, some hip-high full of ingredients cluttered up the shelves along the far side of the room. The side with the door held all of his potions. He chided himself as his eyes fell on the gaping hole in his collection where the healing potions and salves ought to have been.

Harry interrupted again saying, “Thanks for letting me help.”

Severus said nothing, only grabbed his starting ingredients and began brewing albeit with a new pride pressing against the seams of his shirt. Before uncorking and opening the jars, Snape grabbed a thin string from his pocket and tied his hair back in a low pony.

Harry muttered to himself off to the side. “Looks good like that.” When Severus turned his head the green eyes immediately settled back on the parchment as a furious red rushed through Harry’s face.

The two fell into an easy rhythm. Severus was surprised multiple times throughout the afternoon and evening when he and Harry seamlessly danced around the lab gathering ingredients, preventing mishaps, and bottling potions. Not only was Harry wordlessly working on the potions, but he was also moving around the lab just like Severus. After the first few potions Harry had brought to Severus, he told him he wouldn’t need to examine his work any longer. It was perfectly brewed.

The dark wooden shelves of the room soaked up Severus’s happiness as he quietly stirred and chopped. Every so often, he’d sneak a glance at Harry whose brow was often wrinkled in concentration. Severus learned that when Harry was working hard, he’d push his chin forward just slightly and pull his lower lip into his mouth. It endeared the Potions Master. Severus had never enjoyed his time brewing the mundane quite as much as that day.

They worked in this perfect rhythm for a long time, Harry brewing one potion at a time and Snape masterfully managing three cauldrons at one go. Severus, familiar with the breath-like flow of this room, called drinks in for Harry every time the potion or salve he worked on seemed close to completion. Snacks were expressly forbidden but he supposed a glass of water couldn’t be too catastrophic, even in the hands of Harry Potter.

As Severus finished bottling a blood replenishing potion, he finally split his attention away from the last cauldron simmering. Keeping careful track of the clock, he leaned back on a table. Crossing ankle over ankle as his hands helped support his weight, he softly smiled at a humming Harry Potter meticulously sprinkling aconite into the blue burn healing potion. It turned a deep shade of lavender as Harry sighed and stepped back, checking his watch before turning back to the handwritten instructions again.

_ Basic potions, but all my own creations. A burn potion that relieves pain, a mystery how no potion master had thought of that before. What **is** he humming? _

Harry wiped his brow with the inside of his shirt, a trick Severus had taught all his students but that he found very few retained. He sighed as he picked up his wand and began to stir horizontally across the silver cauldron. A gentle flush colored his cheeks and droplet of sweat held down his otherwise unruly hair. Something squeezed around Snape’s heart as he watched the young wizard brew the potion. 

The humming continued as Harry worked. Severus could feel the soft smile on his face as he watched the young wizard relax into the art of potion-making. The crackle of something bigger than them both seemed to electrify the air but if Harry felt it, he didn’t show it. Harry glanced back down at his watch before adding the dust of the final ingredient into the cauldron. 

They’d both fallen into the steady breathing of the room, something Severus thought would never happen. While he had kept careful track of time, he was certain Harry was only looking at the minute hand on his watch for the potions. It was easy to lose track of time on a good brewing day, the world always melted away for Snape and he could see that perhaps it was melting away for Harry too.

_ He’s a natural. After all this time,  _ **_now_ ** _ the brat’s a natural. _

Harry set his wand down and began noting small “x”s on the side of the parchment Severus had given him. From his position, Severus could see three full lines of those “x”s off to the side of the directions. 

_ Triple checking your work would have done you a great deal of good in the classroom _ .

Glancing back at his own potion, he could see it was nearing completion. His clock told him he had another three minutes but Snape didn’t trust it to alert him. Moving closer to the potion, he continued watching Harry work for a moment. Closing his eyes, he counted to fifteen as he listened to the gentle melody buzzing between Harry’s lips. Bringing his attention back to his own potion, Severus stirred it three times before letting it be for the night. 

_ In fourteen hours I will have replaced the last of my potions. If Harry had not worked so hard, I would have easily had another day or two of brewing. _

Charming his potion not to be disturbed by movement or sound, Severus walked over to Harry who was pouring the last of the burn potion into a vial. Harry set the cauldron down and looked up to Snape with a bunch of potion splattered across his left cheek. Snape fought futilely against the smile wanting to burst across his face. Better than the potion splashed across his face, Harry looked happy in a way Snape had never been permitted to see before.

Then, Harry ruptured the silence by exploding into laughter. 

“Oh gods, Snape.” Tears were running down his cheeks as he doubled over, hands on his knees, wheezing from the laughter.

Severus began scowling, taking a step away from Harry and intending to dash out of the room but a hand snatched his wrist again. A sudden fear bubbled up in his chest.  _ It was a joke. All of this some pathetic attempt at humiliating me. Just like James, he’s- _

“Wait, wait. It’s not...I’m not... making fun,” Harry said in between gasps from the laughter. “No, hang on.” The laughter bubbled up again, though Harry tried to stop it. 

The hand moved off the wrist and instead landed on Snape’s upper arm as Harry tossed his head back with glee. The fear settled below something new. Something warm. Snape wondered if this was what trust felt like.

Severus watched the sight before him with a strange fascination. Snape’s face, normally tight and full of distrust, was open and intrigued showing a genuine curiosity that he had hidden since he was a child. He wondered if this was a joke or if somehow he himself could bring that sort of emotion to someone. Try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to be angry in the face of Harry’s innocent joy bouncing off the walls of his lab.

Harry composed himself and said, “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. It’s just… your nose is purple and your hair… it’s got bright blue in it. You’re a real sight.”

Severus stood as stiff as a board. He never did know what he looked like in the middle of those long, brewing days. Generally, on long days like this one, he would simply walk out of the lab and straight into the shower. Desperately trying to maintain his authority, missing that Harry respected him at that moment more than he ever had, Snape took a step closer to Harry intent on sneering and putting Harry in his place.

“And you... have potion on your cheek.”

Without thinking of his actions, Snape’s hand shot out and grabbed Harry’s head. Roughly, he brushed the drops of potion off the smooth skin with his thumb. 

Harry swallowed thickly and suddenly the air between them tingled. Severus didn’t remove his hand as he watched the dark pupils eat up the green hills of Harry’s irises. The lids drooped slightly as Harry leaned into the touch. Severus felt his lips part slightly, a tell hinting at the desire he pushed low inside himself. Blinking himself free of the hungry green eyes, Severus returned his arm to his side.

“It’s late. You may shower first.”

Harry cocked his head. Just before Snape moved one of Harry’s hands found Snape’s hair. He stilled, a deer caught in headlights. His eyes carefully watched Harry. Only one person had touched his hair prior.

_ James. That...that bastard. _

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind Snape’s ear, Harry offered a smile. Severus could feel himself shaking in a mix of fear and confusion. The hand returned, his time smudging something cool across his brow and hairline. There was something tender about that touch that diverted from the memories of how his virginity had been stolen from him. But he couldn't shake the memory of being beaten by James, his hair yanked till it ripped free. And when it was all over, he endured the gentle hand smoothing down his hair. Breaking out of character, he stumbled backwards letting fear show plainly in his widening eyes.

“Your father...”

_ Severus, watch your tongue.  _ Forgetting all about Harry's intrusion in Dumbledore's office, Snape furiously occluded as if Harry would try to breach his thoughts.

Harry’s eyes clouded as the features of his face hardened. He let his hand go back to his side before picking his wand up with a shake of his head. Severus looked at the ground, angry at himself for the sudden display of weakness. The atmosphere shifted and Severus felt a familiar sense of dread fill his stomach. He had ruined the day. 

_ Perhaps he won’t understand. He’s idolized James since I’ve encountered him. He could never fathom the depths of cruelty that man was capable of bestowing on me. Not Potter. He’s blind to James. I am the villain. I am always the villain. _

Severus kept his eyes on the dirty cauldron which Harry’s hands were now firmly gripping. “You know,” Harry huffed, “the more I learn about my dad the less happy I am to look like him.” The knuckles were white on the side of the cauldron as he began cleaning it. “Can’t use magic on this one right?”

“Correct.”

Harry sighed.

_ I ought to have held my tongue better. He’ll lose respect. Ah yes, Harry Potter’s respect.  _ **_That_ ** _ is certainly the most important thing in the world _ . But Severus couldn’t shake that for one reason or another, Harry’s respect meant something to him. No one seemed to even come close to caring about Snape and Harry, brat that he always was, challenged Snape in a not altogether terrible way.

“Was it… This isn’t my business but it’s my dad. Just…” Harry growled before glancing out of the corner of his vision at Snape who was genuinely shocked at the rage he saw boiling there. 

Snape stood taller and before he could measure what he was going to do, he said, “James wanted to teach me a lesson about Lily. Something mundane about leaving her be.” Shame coiled in his gut as he recalled running towards the Whomping Willow after slithering out of James’s grasp. He remembered hiding, bleeding and scared, in the hollow of the tree as it beat at the teenager. “We were fourth years. I suppose he thought it’d be funny to fuck the greasy bat. But Remus and even Black didn’t find it as funny. They left me there, with Potter, without a wand but I managed to get to the Whomping Willow.” Swallowing around a knot in his throat he said, “Nothing too eventful, I assure you.” Absentmindedly he touched at his hair, smoothing it back and pulling the string loose.

The young wizard in front of him glared at him for a moment, assessing something before turning back to the cauldron he was cleaning. 

Snape caught the end of something Harry mumbled to himself. “Bastard.” Harry turned his head to Snape just slightly. “I’ll call for dinner. You should shower. You have more potion on you.” Harry raised his eyebrows. “Oh don’t worry, I won’t ask for only treacle tarts. Something you want?”

“Salmon.”

“Salmon, then.”

“With a salad and some lemon.”

Harry grinned from ear to ear. “Perfect. I’ll call Dobby.”

Severus found himself standing, unable to leave as he watched Harry carry the cleaned cauldron to the back of the room. With his back still turned to Snape, Harry bowed his head low and to the side. His jaw clenched with his fists and Snape was struck by how much he had grown up over the summer. A flash of green caught his eyes.

“I hate him, you know. I hate...James. He was a bastard and I hate that I look like him.” More quietly he said, “I don’t hate you, Snape.”

Harry’s shoulders lifted with his heavy breath but when he turned around Snape could only see a small smile. Snape couldn’t find a way to respond to Harry so he let the silence hang as he ushered him towards the door.

Walking out of the lab with Harry, he left the door open and cleared his throat. “I’m brewing a blood replenishing potion that will take another fourteen hours. Since you are staying here tonight, I will inform you that when I have a potion brewing I leave the door to the lab open as it is the only way I will be able to hear the internal alarms if something were to begin going awry.”

“Okay.”

“Do not shut it.”

Severus glared down at Harry who looked chuffed as chips. Rolling his eyes and sighing heavily as he walked away, he heard Harry’s footsteps bound after him.

With one hand on the bathroom door, he said, “Might I help you with anything else?”

Sheepishly, Harry looked down at his feet for a moment.

“I just wanted to say that you’re bloody stupid, Snape.” Before Snape could open his mouth to say anything else, those determined green eyes looked up at him. He felt his features soften as he looked at the resolve swirling in those eyes.

“If you’d told me that potions could be so bloody fun, I’d have worked harder a long time ago. Hell, maybe I’d even have listened to you once or twice.  Anyway, I just mean that if you need help on the other weekends, I wouldn’t be opposed or anything like that. Lot more fun than bloody useless Hogsmeade.”

A devilish smirk played on his lips as he responded. “Careful, Harry. You’re beginning to sound like your greasy professor.”

Harry walked away, waving off Snape. “Sod off, you aren’t greasy and you know it.”

_ That brat! Undermining my authority underneath my own roof. _

“Ten points from Gryffindor.”

“Ten points? What for? Telling you you aren't greasy? Awful weird, that is.”

“Fifteen! Even an imbecile like you knows not to disrespect your superiors.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I have.”

“I’ll eat all your chocolates.”

“Ha! They’re warded.”

Harry looked at Snape for a moment whose wand was drawn and was already adding enforcements to the chocolates atop the countertops with the most serious expression he’d ever seen the man wear. Then, he burst out laughing again in a fit of apologies. 

Snape finished and looked over at Harry who was now lying on the couch cackling. He’d spent many years carefully watching the young wizard in an attempt to protect him from both the Dark Lord and Albus’s plans. Not once had he seen Harry laugh so freely and so often. 

Turning his back and allowing himself to smile he said, “I will rescind the points.”

“Thanks. Really, thank you. I could never explain to Ron that I lost us points for threatening to take your chocolates.”

Snape’s eyes flashed.

“Sorry! Sorry. I’ll never touch them.” Harry smiled in a doofy, lopsided grin full of teeth as he held his hands up in defeat.

“No, you will not. However, you will brew whenever you remain here for the weekend.”

“You got it.”

Severus snorted at the boy’s enthusiasm and said, “I do hope this vigor continues into your studies,” before shutting and locking himself in the bathroom to take a long, hot, and well-deserved shower. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for giving this so much love so far! This is a fluffy chapter, the next few are pretty heavy so remember that I'm not completely cruel. As always, let me know what you guys think of it. I really like writing Snape as someone who loves chocolate. It fits, to me. Have a great day!


	5. I Cannot Stand To Lose You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive trigger warning for this chapter. It's a really, really dark one that has rape in it. Definitely not fluffy like the last two. Still, thanks for the support and let me know what you think. It's a heavy one!

“Ron, honestly! Why won’t you let me out?” Harry’s voice boomed through the Gryffindor common room as he held his hands out in disbelief.

Starting just over an hour ago, Harry had tried to leave the common room in an attempt to go up to some tower, any tower, to be alone to think. After that, he had planned on draping the invisibility cloak over his shoulders and slinking down to the dungeons for a night of rest for once. For one reason or another, he had been absolutely unable to get down there in this last week. At first, it was Neville and Dean staying up all night feigning studying. Then it was Hermione choosing to do extra credit in the common room until morning. Just last night, Ron had refused to go to sleep. He simply sat cross-legged on his bed watching Harry. Harry who had no choice but to roll over and pretend to sleep. 

_ "Don't worry about it, mate." Well, Ron. I'm pretty bloody worried about it now.  _

T he worst part was that Harry was absolutely certain that Ron and Hermione had been up to no good. Multiple nights he'd woken up to find that Ron was simply...gone. And he couldn't do anything about it. Just roll back over as someone glared at him from their bed.

_ Never thought I'd miss Snape this much. Bollocks, I nearly fell asleep in bloody potions. He didn't even say anything. Draco was pissed about _ _that._ Harry nearly laughed but remembered he was still standing in the middle of the common room with a terrible inability to leave.

"Come on, Ron. At least tell me why." More quietly he said, "I deserve that much."

It took him every ounce of control not to spit wild magic at his two friends as he stood in front of the fire. Hermione crossed her arms and glared hard at Ron who had developed a red flush on his neck, the one he only got when he was extremely angry. _Those idiots. They really don't see the issue here._ _ Gods, they have no idea how bad this is. I  _ **_need_ ** _ to be able to leave otherwise…otherwise, it’s just like with Vernon. _ Thick panic tightened around his throat as he fought against a current of frustrated tears trying to make their debut.

“Mate, it’s for your own good. ‘Mione and I don’t know where you’re going every night. If you just tell us...”

“I’m not telling you anything!” He sucked in a deep breath and thought back to Snape. _If he can stay calm after all these years of people spitting in his face, I can handle this._ “I’m not up to anything anyway. Just getting air, you know? Real fuckin’ hard being Harry Potter some days.”

“Harry…” It was Hermione this time to speak up. “We  _ want _ to believe you. You just aren’t making this easy for us.”

“What the hell does that mean?” His two friends were quiet. They both shuffled a step back as if worried he would explode. "I'm your friend, aren't I?"

"Of course, Harry. No one is saying anything different." But the way her eyes shifted back to Ron told Harry everything he needed to know.

"We just want to know where you're going," Ron said.

"I told you. Nowhere! How about you two? Slipping off in the middle of the night, awful Slytherin of you innit? Having your friends fucking watch me while you two do Merlin knows what coming back smelling like library dust. Shoving giant books under your bed, spelling them to be hidden. Oh, you think I didn't catch that? I don't _sleep,_ Ron. I don't fucking sleep because of Voldemort. I know you're up to something." Harry swallowed around his worry. "Awful hypocritical of you, innit?"

Hermione took two steps forward and raised his wands, startling Harry into stumbling back against the fire. The metal burned against his ankle but his face remained impassive. He only shifted to the side, hiding the blisters forming. 

"You listen here, you aren't leaving these rooms at night anymore, Harry Potter. You might have been our friend but we can't trust you until you give us a good reason to. Where are you going at night?"

"What do you two think I'm up to that justifies a wand being pulled?" Harry screamed.

“Blimey, Harry. Can’t you tell?”

_Voldemort._ _Oh_ _ gods. These fuckers think I’m working for Voldemort. They aren't hearing a word I'm saying. They just think that I've been going and doing...what? Talking to him? Working for him? Sucking him off in my damn dreams? _ Harry was angry, really and truly mad. He felt as if he were practically foaming at the mouth. He and his friends had been engaged in a screaming match for the better part of an hour now over Harry’s recent whereabouts. And now he understood why. They suspected his allegiance was wavering. He stood dead silent and stock still in front of the crackling fire. Warmth seeped through his Weasley jumper but the rage within him burned more strongly. _I can't believe it. My friends... My friends!_

Flushed red with betrayal Harry tried to calm himself down to no avail. His voice broke with desperation. “Hermione,  _ please _ . Just let me leave. I don’t stop you two when you go off to the tower to snog. I could you know.”

“Oh Harry, come off it. You know we aren’t up to any trouble.”

“Yeah, but what’s wrong with me going out? What, you guys think I’m colluding with Voldemort or something?”

Ron and Hermione shared a quick look with one another before turning back to Harry.

“You do! You fucking do.”

“Harry…”

“No don’t ‘Harry’ me, Hermione. After all I’ve gone through with him, you two have the nerve to say this shit to me? I’ve had nightmare after nightmare, been nearly offed  _ several _ times, and you...you think I’m working with him? Really?”

Hermione looked down at her shoes and Ron just shrugged.

“I thought I was your friend. Who else have you told this shit to?”

Now Ron looked down. “Neville and Dean.”

Throwing his hands up Harry yelled, “You two are bloody awful. I’m out constantly risking my arse to save your bloody wizarding world and you think...you have the…Agh!” Harry yelled loudly before putting his hands on his hips and turning away from them. He looked into the fire with tears in his eyes as his chest heaved.

_ It’s just the same. It’s always the bloody same. Gods, why do I always have to convince everyone that I’m not trying to kill everyone? Why does everyone hate me? _

He began pacing around the common room in a futile attempt to stave off the headache forming from the buildup of blood pressure. 

_ Haven’t slept in a bloody week. And these idiots think I’m on Voldemort’s side because they don’t have eyes on me all the time. _ A painful dawning hit Harry. _ Dumbledore must be getting to them. He’s got to be. When I sleep well, he doesn’t get information on Voldemort. And if I’m with Snape, I sleep well. Fuck, I’m an idiot. Well, Dumbledore, it’s not going to work. I’m not bait. Merlin, I bet he wants me dead. Take Voldemort with me. _

Pausing at the fireplace and drawing a long breath in the way he’d seen Snape do a million times, Harry exhaled only slightly calmer than before. He resumed his pacing.

_ I’m exhausted. If I don’t get out of here… My fucking head will be Voldemort’s playground tonight. I know it. How does Snape do it? Managing two psychopaths at the same time without so much as yelling. _ A small voice in his head said that Snape does yell, just at students.  _ I would too. I  _ **_am_ ** _ already. _

Rubbing a hand over his burning eyes, Harry turned back to face them.

“So, do I get to go out tonight or are you two going to stand guard?”  Hermione turned beet red as she scrunched her mouth up into an ugly pout. "Oh, I see. You...you witch. You've been researching how to keep me in here, huh? So I can't leave. Even if you two stand aside."

“Harry that’s-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s your name.”

“I’m just Potter to you now. Trapping me in here like I’m just your pet. Really, Hermione, you’re no better than the Dursleys. Fuck you.”

The pout trembled and Hermione looked as if she was about to cry. This time Ron’s face went dark.

“You know, you’re a real piece of work. She’s only thinking about you.”

“No! No one is thinking about me. You’ve booby-trapped my damn bedroom and the common room so I can’t leave unless you say so. It's just like the Dursleys! I'd be damn better off in Voldemort's dungeons than here. You're serving me up on a platter to him, you know. I can't leave. I can't... You...you…”

Harry felt panic rising in his chest. It had been a long time since he had felt this way. Every time he set foot inside his uncle’s home, this panic bubbled up in his chest and suffocated him. He was trapped there. Whether it was under the stairs in the cupboard or upstairs in his room, when Harry entered that home he was bound to the whims of his family, coming and going only as they saw fit. Sleeping, fucking, eating all around their desires. He could look out the window, garden outside under a watchful eye and dream of leaving. But he couldn't do that. And now he couldn't do that here. Being bound to Ron and Hermione’s suspicions were just as bad as being locked inside his bedroom without magic at his family's house.

_ I can’t leave. I couldn’t get out if I wanted to. They’d be on me the moment I try to fight their traps. I don't even know what those traps are. If they think I'm working for Voldemort those traps might just kill me. _

The panic changed his breathing. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he sucked in shallow breaths. It felt as if there were fire in the air, creeping into his lungs and paralyzing his feet. He could practically feel Voldemort’s presence waiting for him, tapping against his mind. Harry grabbed his wand and let his arm fall limply to his sides. Looking at the fire, he half expected a gang of Death Eaters to pop out of it. His hands trembled with terror and memories.

“Wait, wait. Please.  _ Please. _ I won’t go anywhere, I promise. Just remove whatever wards you have set up. I'll be good. Just _please._ ”

Ron shook his head firmly.

“ _ Please! _ ”

His voice was cracking with desperation but his friends didn’t listen to him.

"Gods, I'm begging you. Please, please, _please!"_

The backs of his friends turned and he was no longer permitted to see their faces. Falling to his knees, Harry screamed hoarsely, begging for anything so long as he wouldn't be trapped here. Harry felt the edges of his world crumbling around him, leaving him in darkness. He watched Hermione walk away after giving Ron a hug. Ron looked back at Harry with something like betrayal burning in his eyes before heading back to their rooms. Harry was left kneeling in the middle of the common room.

_ No, no. This can’t be happening. I’m not safe here. I need to get to Snape’s or even Dumbledore’s. I can’t stay here. Maybe I can floo Draco. He's an awful git but he wouldn't let me die. I know he wouldn't. And he hates them. _

From the threshold of his rooms he heard Ron call out, "If you use the Floo, you'll regret it."

Harry pulled himself up from the floor as he watched the red hair vanish. Harry knew he had no choice unless he wanted to be hexed, doused in some potion, or worse, hit by one of the Weasley twins’ contraptions. Slumping into one of the chairs nearest the fire, Harry looked down at the parchments still resting on the table. They blurred in front of him as he began to silently cry. Slinking his hands around his abdomen, Harry sobbed without making a noise. _I'm going to die. Merlin, I'm going to die._ After a long cry, he shook the tears out of his vision and focused on finishing his potions and transfiguration homework in an attempt to bat away the exhaustion. Even once that was done, he still couldn’t shake the fear clouding his mind. He felt like a caged animal. He was scared.

_ No sense putting off the _ _inevitable._ It had been too long since he had last slept and he couldn't fight it off any longer. Harry sighed and went back to the rooms. _Time to go to bed, I guess._

Walking through the pin-drop silent room, he trudged past his sleeping classmates and over to his bed. The bed groaned slightly as he sat on it. Going through a routine he was all too familiar with, Harry erected silencing charms and spells to ensure no matter how loud he yelled or how terribly he thrashed or how much his magic sparked against the nightly invader, he would not be seen by the others. They already thought of him as a freak. Seeming to be possessed every night wouldn’t help his case any.

Slipping between the sheets, Harry felt tears prick his eyes as he grew tired. 

_ Thought they were my friends but even they don’t trust me. I’m just an abomination. A freak. They just want to lock me away too. Die for the bloody wizarding world. Fucking Dumbledore did this. Is Snape really the only one who gets it? Is he the only good man out there? _

Fighting as long as he could, Harry whimpered as he finally drifted off to sleep. 

The nightmare was bad even by Harry’s standards.

He was back in the Dursley home, in that room he had been given after they found out he had magical powers. He was staring down at the splintering, warped wooden floorboards. _That's blood, isn't it?_ Harry was staring at a red puddle of liquid that was slowly growing. His brain couldn't figure out what exactly was happening but he knew that though his dreams may have emotionally burned him and he occasionally woke up with a headache, he'd never bled like this in his dreams. He could feel the warm liquid running down his face. Distantly, he heard himself crying out, begging for this to stop. His own crying continued as he brought a tentative hand up to his forehead. _I'm bleeding. Merlin, there's a huge gash._ He licked at his lips and slowly brought his head up.

Voldemort was there, pale prick standing in stark contrast to the rest of his dark robes. Harry looked at the red eyes and shook his head.

"This isn't real. You're not real. It's just a dream."

A pale hand buried itself in Harry's head as Voldemort cackled. A burst of pain exploded in his scar as Harry felt Voldemort's glee. 

"Oh, Harry. This is very real. I assure you."

This time, in contrast to the other dreams, Harry could not wake himself. The hand in his hair, the wand pressed against his throat both crackled with an energy they should not have had.

"I'm going to kill you this time, Potter." Spit landed on Harry's cheek. "But not before we have some fun." 

Suddenly Harry was pinned against a wall. His lungs having only an inch to breath, Harry felt the corners of his world fuzz for a moment. Then, the hand in his hair moved down to his throat. Voldemort shoved himself into Harry’s mouth while one of those deathly hands squeezed around Harry’s neck. The intrusive presence grew with a muttered engorgio from Voldemort and Harry suddenly realized he couldn't breathe. Harry’s vision fuzzed and his hearing faded in and out with a terrible buzz.

_Snape. Gods, Severus help me! Help me! I know... I know you could do it. **Please** , Merlin. Please Severus help me! _Harry tried to reach out but the edges of his world began going dark. With a heavy thud, his head cracked against the floor. Voldemort's boots thumped away. Through the fog of recovering his breath, Harry felt large meaty hands dragging him back across the floor to the center of the room. Moments later, he became vaguely aware of Vernon moving inside of him when he was hit with something terribly unbearable.

_ A cruciatus _ . 

He knew it by its feel. Then, the real torment began as he felt his invader’s glee begin to bubble over as two more hit him in rapid succession. His scar exploded into fragments of agony as Voldemort cackled and screamed from his euphoria. The sharp sliver of a knife racing down his back brought his focus back to his body. Jabs of pain assaulted him and suddenly, Harry was very afraid. Trying all he could to wake up and push Voldemort from his mind, Harry quickly gathered that somehow this was really happening. This was no normal nightmare. His theory had been correct, Voldemort, master legilimens, had found a way to reach him in his mind. This dream would never be under Harry’s control. He could never escape. He knew he wasn’t skilled enough now. And Harry was stuck with a pale cock down his throat again and his frantic pulse beating against a pale hand as he struggled to keep a hold of his life. 

_And torture is his specialty. Merlin, Ron. Look what you’ve done to me. Hermione… am I still a threat? Like this?_ _I’m...I’m going to die. Oh gods, I’m going to die like this. Come on, Harry. Find Snape. You can do this._ He focused his thoughts. Searching through the hallways of the school, he imagined himself running towards the dungeons, banging on Salazaar's painting. But every time the poster swung to the side, another lick of electric pain grabbed hold of his senses and wrenched him out of his concentrated state.

_ Dammit! Dammit. Snape! Goddammit. Severus! _

A strangled cry forced itself around the cock in his mouth as something hard came down on his head. Some sort of hex hit him next as fire exploded across his skin. His ligaments pulled and burned while his skin felt as if acid were dribbling down his sides, taking droplets of skin with him. The pauses where he could breathe became fewer and far between even as he bucked and fought. Harry had no concept of how long he'd been in this position, just that Voldemort and Vernon had changed positions multiple times by this point and he had already swallowed more vile semen from the both of them than he had ever done in his life. Vernon's previous abuse looked like child's play compared to this.

_ Severus...I'm sorry. I'm so bloody _ _sorry._ _I tried, I really tried. But they wouldn't let-_ Harry screamed around a different spell. Harry knew if he were to die this way, Snape would inevitably take it onto himself. 

Suddenly, Harry felt the fight go out of his limbs.  Whether from the hexes, cruciatus, or the fight, his muscles began to cramp and give, leaving him frantic and limp beneath Voldemort’s hands. Gently, he felt himself lifted off the floor and levitated into the air. He hung limply, unable to move any part of his body. Vernon disappeared off to the side and the pale prick in his throat vacated too. Harry gasped for breath. The small, childish hope in his brain told him that this was it. He would wake up in a moment and be able to vomit the contents of his dinner on the floor and move on with his life.

"Potter," the slimy voice came from behind him as a gross hand stroked down his torn apart back. "Poor Potter." The voice lowered next to his ear as he felt a blunt pressure much larger than his uncle's at his entrance. Harry started to cry.

_ Please! Snape, please. Please. I’m sure you’re there. I’m sure. _

"Please, don't."

Voldemort laughed and thrust in. Harry screamed in agony as blood slicked Voldemort's way. 

"Pathetic boy, begging." _Snape, I'm sorry. Merlin. Gods, I'm sorry._ Harry felt the smack of a wand against his prick and suddenly pleasure was rolling through him in nauseating waves. "There, Harry Potter. You may die this way. Begging to come on my cock."

Harry was sobbing in earnest now, disgusted and violated in a way he'd never been before. _I_ _'m_ _ really going to die. I’m going to die right here and no one can help me. He's making me feel... fuck. _ _ Severus. Severus. _ Harry focused on the contours of Snape's face. The gentle curve his lips always held in Harry's presence. Harry remembered the smell of cinnamon he always had after afternoon tea. How many people knew that Severus Snape took hot cocoa with cinnamon sticks instead of tea? A jolt of pain snapped him from his reverie. The pale face of the potion master in Harry's head wrinkled with something like concern infiltrated his thoughts. _Snape?_ Harry thought he heard a quiet, "I will protect you." _ I wish you could hear me. I wish you could help me. I wish... I wish you could protect me. _ Conjuring up the last of his energy, Harry began screaming for Severus. Unbeknownst to himself, back in his bed, his voice broke around Severus’s name, hoarsely calling out for the only man he trusted to save his life. 

_ Please. Please, Severus. Hear me. _

Voldemort raised his wand and yelled, "Sectumsempra!"

_Severus..._

**************************************************

Severus absentmindedly thumbed through the latest issue of a potioning magazine with little interest. The thin man in dark robes tilted a small bottle of veritaserum on a loop on the page Severus had stopped on several minutes back. The issue was interesting enough. This particular article was discussing veritaserum when added to other potions but Snape’s mind wasn’t absorbing the words on the page. He could only focus on the quiet, the distinct absence of Harry. He sighed heavily as he tossed the magazine onto the coffee table near the fire. 

_ Midnight. _ The obsidian eyes glared at the muggle clock as if it had done something to wrong him. _Five minutes past midnight._

This was the fifth night Harry had not shown up covered in that awful invisibility cloak. The fifth night Harry had not loudly crashed through the door or immediately sought out the chocolates Snape now kept warded. It was the fifth night Severus didn’t smile down at the shoes scattered by the entrance or the book lying half-open on his couch. It was the fifth night he had stayed up later than normal in anticipation of Harry arriving. He was beginning to miss peeking in on Harry before he himself went to sleep to ensure the brat wasn’t suffering from a nightmare. He hated to admit it, but he was beginning to miss the footprint Harry had in his dungeons.

In the past month, they had established quite a pattern. Harry came down every night besides Monday and Tuesday. He would come through the entrance and sometimes even try to sneak up on Severus who, although was rarely startled, disliked the effort Harry made. They would read, engage in idle chatter, and eat together most nights. Recently, since Harry had taken an interest in brewing, Severus even found himself carried away by Harry’s questions, prattling on about potions and the secrets he knew without hardly any prompting. The glint in Harry’s eyes as Snape talked was addictive. He was getting used to feeling significant. Snape hated to admit it, and he would never do so to anyone who asked, but Harry coming down into his rooms was the highlight of his days. 

The weekends didn’t help his case any. Every weekend, Harry stayed almost all of Saturday and most of Sunday, spending every waking moment dancing around the laboratory with Severus brewing potions for Poppy or even, to Snape’s surprise, for fun. Severus knew he harbored feelings for the young man but as a professor, and more importantly, as someone in Voldemort's inner circle, he knew he could never have Harry close to him in such a way. As such, he greatly cherished the hours they spent together. He wasn't near admitting it to himself, but Severus loved Harry very dearly.

_ I have relaxed my guard around that Potter child. If the Dark Lord has figured as much out, I am in trouble indeed.  _ He shook his head and carded his fingers through his hair. _He has not figured as much. I would be dead by now if he had. Lucius would no doubt be holding the wand at my throat already._

Severus stood up with a huff.

_ That brat is either in terrible danger or up to trouble. Given his genetics, he is certainly up to no good. _

He licked at his lips as he stalked towards his bedroom. Grabbing his clothes, he moved off towards the bathroom to dress. Shedding his lounge clothes quickly, he slipped on his traditional black attire and long cloak. Since Harry had begun to routinely visit, Severus had switched his hall duties to Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday but frequently stepped out anytime the wizard got under his skin. The professors always appreciated any amount of extra presence when it came to corralling the students. Tonight, though it was not his duty to do so, Severus decided he would roam the halls. It might do the unrest in his heart some good.

_ Besides, if that brat is up to something someone will need to stop him.  _

Severus ran a tired hand through his hair, stopping midway through dressing, wearing only a dress shirt and slacks. Reaching out to a dark purple mug full of black coffee, he brought it to his lips. Swallowing cold coffee and scoffing to himself for messing up the spell to keep it warm, Severus set the mug back on his bathroom counter with a loud crack. He winced.

_ No great surprise if he were up to his neck in mischief. _

The nagging thought that Harry might truly be in trouble entered Snape’s mind again. Harry had been distracted the whole week during his classes. It had hardly shown in his potions score, which surprised Snape very little after seeing how well Harry could brew. But earlier that day Harry had actually fallen asleep and collapsed against the table. 

_ He hasn’t been sleeping, that much was evident by the glamours. The fool thinks he can trick everyone. _ Severus wondered as he buttoned up the cuffs on his sleeves if Harry knew he could see the gentle spell of magic around the glamours.  _ He is no idiot. Not any more. _

Though he knew Harry’s tendency to gravitate towards breaking the rules, Severus couldn’t shake that he felt something was wrong in his gut. His long fingers buttoned up the black, form-fitting robe when a spike of pain flashed through his temples. The pale hands landed atop the black granite counter as the pain receded. As the pain fell away, Severus was nearly knocked off his feet by the power of the magic entering his mind.

_ This magic...only the Dark Lord is such a powerful legilimens to be able to… _

Abruptly, Severus stopped fighting against the intrusion as he felt the honey magic beg for entrance into his mind. He’d felt with this magic before but at much weaker levels. Something inside of him began to shudder and the walls collapsed, granting the gold tendrils of thought free reign in his own mind. Intimacy had always been foreign to Severus, but this felt more intimate than anything he had before experienced. Something inside him screamed at him to allow it entry. The magic struggled forward, licking at memories but never pressing into the hallway of his thoughts. That sealed it for Snape. He knew this magic, he knew it well.

_ Harry. _

Letting darkness fall, he closed his eyes. He centered his mind and began searching out the amber magic trickling through his mind. Steady breaths moved the hair falling in front of the bowed head as he still clutched onto the edge of the bathroom counter. The thoughts riding on the magic were chaotic and tinged with desperation. They moved without order and seemed to have no sense of where they needed to go.

Focusing himself and muttering spellwork as he went, Snape descended into his mind and pulled the magic closer to him. Then, on the horizon of the nothingness in his mind, he saw Harry bathed in gold, screaming for him. 

“Snape! Goddammit . Severus!” 

The cracking of his voice made some old factory in Snape’s soul spit to life, churning out black clouds of possessive rage. 

“I tried, I really tried. But they wouldn’t let-”

Harry was cut off by some spell and something more sinister as he screamed. Severus could feel the pain and humiliation radiating from the image. His right hand twitched, looking for a wand he knew wasn’t there. Snape moved quickly towards the shimmering Harry sitting on the edge of his mind. 

“Please! Snape, please.  _ Please. _ I’m sure you’re there. I’m sure.”

A sickening crack of something echoed through the image and Severus was suddenly running, feet smacking against the stones lining his way with heavy clops. His heart hammered as Harry’s magic began to flicker, the image distorting before settling again. This time, Severus was close enough to touch the image. Close to enough to suck in a breath as his face contorted in grief.

“Severus…” 

The voice was dim and though the eyes were darting in every direction. Panic, pain, and understanding contorted Harry's face in ways Snape hoped he would never have to witness again. The passionate sparkle he had become so used to seeing had been replaced by a dull glint and the matte cover of terror. Sweat beaded upon his forehead and fell down the floor. Blisters, burns, and gashes covered his body and his face was half covered in crusting over blood. Rage pumped Severus's heart faster as he took in the scene.

There Harry was, being taken by his pig of an uncle from behind and being suffocated on the Dark Lord’s cock. The image shimmered, nearly vanished, and then he saw the Dark Lord taking Harry from behind, wand pointed at the young wizard's cock. Rage swelled within Snape as he looked at Harry, eyes bloodshot, snot running from his nose, and naked body littered with cuts, burns, and marks of that twisted wand. His hands bunched into fists as he watched the rhythm of the bodies before him. Harry’s thoughts were going dim, fading from Snape’s mind and he began to worry that the Dark Lord had figured out a way to connect to the young wizard and truly murder him. 

He heard the thought leaking from Voldemort's mind before he spoke it. Snape hissed as he whispered, "He's going to kill the boy with my own spell. He knows. Merlin, he knows."

Concealing the pain on his face, Severus reached out a hand and touched the image just as it was fading away into oblivion. 

His fingers lightly brushed against Harry’s cheek as he said, “I will protect you, Harry.”

Severus nodded and pulled himself from his mind, watching the last of the golden rays twinkle away.

Coming back to reality, Severus buttoned his cape around his shoulders and ran to his potions lab. His hands moved on autopilot as he threw several small phials into his pockets. Severus swallowed around the unadulterated fury sitting in his throat. Someone had stopped Harry from visiting him. With a harsh breath, he set his features and posture as he strode quickly from his rooms. Voldemort was killing Harry, and someone had helped him get there. Cage Harry up like a bad pet.

Tearing up out of the dungeons, Severus did something he rarely did. He ran. As he stormed through Hogwarts with his cape billowing out behind him like thunder clouds, his breath came in ragged gasps as his legs pushed him to move faster. The clack of his shoes against the stone floors announced his presence in every corner of the castle. The walls shuddered beneath his anger. As he moved, the factory in his spirit churned out more of the vile possessive anger until he was certain that when he found what fool prevented Harry from visiting him, he would kill them.

The Fat Lady, seeing a seething Severus roaring up the stairs like a rogue ocean creeper wave, moved aside quickly and easily. As he entered the Gryffindor rooms, he immediately began casting spells. Unlocking the Floo, shedding an ungodly amount of light throughout the dorms, and examining the entrance for any sign of tampering, to start. He found multiple spells, and a few Weasley contraptions, around the door to keep Harry and only Harry sealed in.

His nostrils flared as he flicked his wand at the door to Harry and his classmates’ dorm. Stalking into the room with his cape snapping behind him, he ignored the scared faces hunkered down in their beds illuminated by hospital white light while he aimed his wand at Harry. There were spells keeping prying eyes out but it didn't cause Severus more than a fraction of a second of pause. Flicking his wand, they all fell down.

Ron piped up, albeit with a shiver in his voice. “Oi! Don’t you do-”

“Whichever one of you has trapped this boy in here will have hell to pay.” Severus snarled out the words, “With me.” His cape gathered around his ankles as he rushed to the boy whose blood was beginning to drip from the sheet. Crashing to Harry's side, he scooped the boy into his arms in full view of the room. Startled gasps filled the air like static as he began to chant. The seeping cuts began to heal. After a few minutes of chanting, Snape stood to look at the students.

“He was ordered to come to the Headmaster or myself to prevent  _ this _ .” 

With another flick and a shout, Snape expertly dismantled the rest of Harry’s spellwork, releasing his cries into the air. All the faces in the dorm dropped as they listened to Harry scream himself hoarse, crying incomprehensibly with bursts of “stop” and pleas for Snape. Tendrils of magic burst out from him and the glass in the room shattered. Ron winced as he looked over to Dean. Harry thrashed from side to side fighting an unseen enemy.

While the rest of the room was frozen in fear, Severus wasted no time in finishing his inspection. Blood stained the sheets. Harry’s body was shivering violently. Severus blinked slowly, knowing the effects of that unforgivable particularly well. Carefully lifting the hem of Harry’s shirt, Severus saw long gashes running all across Harry’s torso that had not been caused by his own creation. This was the work of the Dark Lord indeed. 

_ Dammit, Harry.  _

Seeing the students begin to move, he extinguished the bright light in favor of keeping the rest of Harry’s wounds a secret. _They will be scarred well enough from the sectumsempra. There is no need for them to see this._ His eyes ghosted down to the blood coloring Harry's boxer briefs. He tipped several potions down Harry's throat before taking a step back. He turned to Ron briefly, his face illuminated by the faint glow of his wand tip. “Mr. Weasley, be ready to fetch the Headmaster in the event of my...demise.” Turning back to Harry, wand raised, he yelled, “Legilimens!”

Finding Harry was a nightmare. Sweat rolled down his temple as he struggled to get through the walls occluding Harry’s thoughts. He growled as he thought of how hard Harry was working to push out the intruder. 

Snape moved through Harry’s mind and sought out the section with the most barriers but could not find Harry. It seemed as though he were being bounced between one memory to the next by the Dark Lord. Fighting against that secondary power throughout Harry’s mind, Severus knew the Dark Lord was determined to keep Harry in his clutches and execute his plan. 

With great effort, Snape focused his attention on pushing away useless information and tracking down Harry. Severus moved through Harry's mind. He was a master legilimens more powerful than even the Dark Lord when he had his heart set on something. Following the power of the Dark Lord and the twine of thin gold magic, he was able to locate Harry. With a sickening twist of his stomach, he saw the nightmare. He saw the Dark Lord.  Staring at Harry, working to figure if this was the real nightmare where he was caged, Severus began to analyze his situation until he heard a desperate, “I’m sorry” break through the air.

_ Oh, Harry. Why are you apologizing? _

Without thinking much more, Severus stepped into the dream, ready to face the consequences. All parties stopped moving. Harry crashed hard against the ground as the Dark Lord waved his hand. 

"You ugly _child_. Why aren't you dead?" The venomous voice shot across the room.

The onyx eyes stared at the creature with the contorted look of rage plastered across his face. Severus kept his eyes locked on the Dark Lord as he slowly walked towards Harry. Black met red as the pale arms scooped Harry up and carefully backed out of the room. 

As he hit the threshold, he heard Voldemort say, “It was you, wasn’t it? You’re the spy.”

“My Lord, I have no clue what you are speaking of.”

"You...traitor. You stopped the curse."

Snape pulled Harry closer to his chest.

The Dark Lord pulled his pants up as he seemingly reigned in his rage. “I will find him again. Not tonight, but I will find him again. I’ll kill him yet, Severus.” Almost as an afterthought, he said, "And I'll kill you too."

Severus bowed as he left, doing a poor job of hiding the disgust he felt towards the demented wizard. As he set Harry down in the hallway of his thoughts, he brushed the knuckles of his hand across Harry’s bloody, tear-soaked cheek.

“Harry. Harry, you must wake up now.”

Dream Harry stirred but fell unconscious. Severus leaned in and hugged the boy, taking off his cape and draping it around him. He brushed a few stray locks off Harry’s forehead and looked at the angry, red mark practically pulsing from the proximity to Voldemort. He covered it up with the palm of his hand and held it there for a moment, knowing damn well he had already spent too much energy and magic trying to find Harry. He kept his hand there for as long as he could. When he pulled it away, the ugly red had calmed down to a bold pink hue. Fatigue nipped at his heels.

“You’re safe, Harry. I’m here. Try to wake up.” Severus could hear a shakiness in his own voice that he very much hated. “The world would be far too quiet without your antics.”

With that, Severus pulled back from Harry’s mind. 

As he came back to reality, everything swirled around him and his stomach lurched. Reaching his hand out, he braced himself against a dresser near to Harry’s bed. Staying inside of Harry’s mind that long had threatened Snape’s safety. Master of legilimency or not, one could only spend so much time in a mind in one night. He could feel that he’d gone paler than usual. His legs felt weak and his mind open and vulnerable. Severus grit his teeth as he struggled to occlude his thoughts. His long hair fell forward in curtains around his moon-white face as his dark eyes locked on the stone floor for a moment. The room was silent.

Ron’s voice squeaked through. “Are you all right, Professor?”

Snape sneered back at Ron but ended up wincing from the sudden change in direction. A thick headache began pounding at his temples.

Waving his wand, he extinguished his wand light, plunging the room into total blackness. The room was shrouded in darkness momentarily as he fell to Harry’s side. Small lights began to flicker on as various boys illuminated their lamps. 

Taking off his cape, this time in the real world, he wrapped Harry up to conceal the wounds he’d sustained. Severus’s wand cut through the air in rapid motions as he worked to clean the bed of its blood before the students could see. He tipped back a dreamless sleep potion into Harry’s mouth along with a few others, hoping that since Harry wouldn’t wake on his own, he could at least rest easy and without pain for a while without having to worry about intruders.

_ Brats never appreciate how far I go to save their precious innocence. _ The snark rang through his thoughts as he looked at a few of the illuminated terrified faces nearly crying as he held Harry in his arms.

All throughout the room, lamps turned on, and by the time dim light bathed the bed, no sign of Harry’s injuries could be found. Scooping the young wizard into his arms Snape softly walked out of the room.

Pausing at the door, he turned back to the boys and said, “If he dies, it is on all of your hands and do not think I will hesitate to send you to Azkaban. I am not finished with you all.” Drawing Harry closer to his chest, he hurried down to the dungeons. 

Severus set Harry down on the black comforter covering his own bed, immediately tipping a second blood replenishing potion down his throat. Though he was sure he had arrived in time, a tinge of worry filled Severus. He couldn’t help but fight against the idea that Harry should have woken from the nightmare the moment Severus pulled him from it. 

_ There isn't time for fear, Severus. Save _ _him._

Running his wand over Harry’s body, he did a few preliminary scans and found that nothing extraordinary was wrong. The potions and salves he had on hand mixed with his higher than average healing ability would suffice. He was not out of the woods by any means, but he would be fine. Harry was sleeping soundly. Snape rubbed a hand over his brow, momentarily relieving the pressure holding his forehead hostage. Severus maintained his spot on the edge of the bed, watching Harry as he calmly breathed in and out before finding the salves and setting to work. It took less than two hours for him to heal the obvious injuries littering the golden skin. When it was all done, he slipped a fresh pair of clothes over Harry's thin frame and tucked him into the large bed.

The bed dipped beneath his weight as he sat next to Harry, his potion-stained fingers resting on the back of Harry’s hand. He stayed there for several minutes, allowing the easy breathing of the teenager calm the strange, near-magical anger winding around his heart as he rubbed gentle circles across the back of Harry's hand. Severus felt his walls cracking. Before he knew what was happening, he had a hand pressed to his eyes as he lightly wept. The pained sounds of sniffles and whimpers crackled in the air with the gentle burn of his fireplace. A deep pain cut slashes across his heart. Severus hurt. He hurt for Harry. He hurt for what he nearly lost. He hurt for love. And so he sat and quietly wept.

Leaning closer to the sleeping wizard, Snape brushed the wild locks of hair across the scar. Hiding it from view, he rubbed his thumb across Harry's cheek as he wiped away the last of his own tears. Harry's brow was relaxed as the obsidian eyes looked down at him with a softness no one else had ever seen. A softness he had learned to bury and hide. A softness he wished he could learn how to kill. The watery edges of the dark eyes brimmed over once more and a tear or two dropped to the black duvet covering Harry.

"I am sorry, Harry." He set his hands in his lap and looked away. "I have failed to keep you safe." The tears threatened again but Snape held them at bay. _I very nearly lost you, Harry. I nearly lost myself._ _Harry, w_ _hat would I do without you?_

He stayed seated beside Harry for a long while, fighting to regain control over his emotions. Eventually, he rose and knelt at the edge of his fireplace and stuck his head through as he fire-called Poppy.

“Severus! Oh, what a surprise. You look terrible. Have you had too much to drink?”

“No, Poppy. It’s Harry.”

“What’s happened?”

Severus looked down as he felt a rush of shame color his features. “He met with the Dark Lord in his nightmare tonight.”

“Oh, sweetie you know I can’t. Albus-”

“I know, Poppy. I know you’ve sworn a wizard’s oath to Albus. I simply wish for you to come inspect him for me. I have done the rest.”

“And you?”

“What of me?”

“How much have you exerted yourself?”

“Poppy…”

The medi-witch laughed and shook her head. “I’ll fix you up, Severus. Someone ought to.”

“This isn’t…” Severus huffed. It had been ages since he had last overexerted himself in legilimency and he felt as if he were a student again. “I am fine.”

“Get your stubborn head out of that dusty old thing and I’ll be right through. I’ll look at Harry but  _ only _ if you let me fix you up. Severus, how many times have I been unable to help you lately? Let me help.”

Severus scowled and pulled his head out of the fireplace, grumbling as he listened to her fading laughter. A few moments later, Poppy stepped through clad in a pink robe and purple slippers. Severus suppressed a grin but he couldn’t prevent his eyebrows from twitching upwards in surprise. She gently slapped his arm.

“Oh really. Not all of us wear only black.”

Her delicate fingers brushed the ash from Snape’s shoulders as she sighed. “When are you going to start taking care of yourself?” Snape was quiet. Stepping out of her range, he brushed the residual ash off his hair. She shook her head. “Some of us care about you, you know.” He said nothing.

The medi-witch’s wand did a preliminary check on Snape as he rolled his eyes and looked over to Harry. 

“Really, Severus. You fidget with no one else. Stop moving!”

“Poppy, I-”

“Shut up and stand still.”

Severus glared at her from beneath his strong brow. He despised how she giggled as she cast a few spells on him. Poppy always succeeded in seeing Severus as if he were still a child at the school and he couldn’t act any other way it seemed when in her presence. He couldn’t help but let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding as the pain left his head. His vision lost the explosions of small stars and his hearing was no longer muffled. The vertigo vanished.

Clearing his throat he said, “I believe Mr. Potter needs your attention.”

She shook her head at Snape and moved over to Harry’s side. 

“Thank you, Poppy.”

Poppy’s face fell as her wand moved over Harry’s unconscious body. Leaving the wand hovering to complete its diagnostic tests, she shuffled away from the young wizard and wrapped her arms around Severus. Shocked, Snape uncomfortably draped his arms around her, his black cloak hiding the bright splashes of color. He felt her tremble in his grasp and offered her his strength as he held her tightly. She smelled sweet, like candy and perfume. Something about it gave him some childhood comfort.

Pulling out of the hug, Madam Pomfrey gave Severus a sad smile and squeezed his arm. 

“You’re a better hugger than you lead everyone to believe.” Poppy held his gaze until he felt the need to drop it to his shoes. She continued looking up at his red eyes, puffed up from crying and the clean trails of salt cutting through Harry's blood and the dirt of the Floo. She squeezed his arm more firmly. "Severus, have you been crying?"

Snape's lower lip trembled as he drew in a practiced breath through his nose. "Harry, Poppy."

Severus turned his gaze back to the bed, looking at Harry and feeling that possessiveness come back, this time in the form of a warm coil squeezing his heart.

“It's Harry now?"

The dark eyes snapped onto her lighter ones. Something in them told him to relax, he was safe and she would not hurt him. They also told him that she was going to say nothing before he answered her question.

"Yes, I may have shed a tear. As you have gathered, I overexerted myself."

Poppy was silent a moment before removing her hand from his arm. "Well, then, do you know about Harry?”

Severus scowled again. Vague questions were his enemy. “I know some things about him.”

“Would you enlighten me?”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “His uncle.”

“Yes, I know. Damn Albus and his stupid...ugh!” Poppy threw her hands up before placing them on her hips. “That man expects too much of everyone. What else?”

“He has nightmares, often connections with the Dark Lord.”

“Albus has told me.”

“I…” Severus paused, eyeing the medi-witch. He had known her all his life and she was quite possibly the person he trusted and respected the most. 

“I’ll swear a wizard’s oath if you want.”

“No, no need. I have a room in my quarters for Harry. A respite from the nightmares.”

Poppy looked him up and down and nodded. “That’s all then?” Severus nodded. “Then I can’t tell you.” Severus instinctively took several steps forward, leading Poppy to raise her hands. “I know how much that burns you, especially since it’s Harry.”

“What are you implying?”

“That he’s special to you, that’s all.” The sad smile returned as she looked back at Harry. “You just keep watching over him, okay? He needs you too.”

Snape bowed his head, lifting it only when Poppy returned to Harry’s side to inspect her wand. He wanted to bite back, say he didn't need the brat. But it would have been an ugly lie.

_ Unfortunately, it seems, I cannot imagine a world where I am not saving the Potter brat’s hide. Special. A special pain in the arse. _

"Will you still be a moment?"

"Yes, yes. Go get your drink."

He quietly exited the room, leaving the door open just a crack and placing a casual ward to hear anything Poppy had to say. Arriving at the liquor cabinet in his kitchen, Severus pulled out a crystal tumbler and his best bottle of bourbon. The night had been long and something sad nested in the hole the emotions he’d felt earlier. Severus had never felt such a profound loss of control over his emotions as when he realized Harry had been imprisoned by someone, likely one of his friends more enamored by his scar than his spirit. He poured the bourbon into the glass, giving himself a generous amount. 

_ It has been years since I lost my control. Not since I was a _ _student._

Snape leaned against the countertop.  He held the glass in his hand, comforted by its weight. His eyes drifted to the tall ceiling. He followed the cracks lining the stones with muted interest before closing his eyes and sipping at the burning liquid.

_ What did she mean? That witch knew what she was doing saying something of the sort to me. All these witches here are the same, plotting. Harry couldn't possibly need me. Not me. My rooms, what I offer him, perhaps. But he could never need Severus Tobias Snape. _

Severus couldn’t shake that maybe Harry was special to him. At some point, since Albus had ordered him a miserable birthday and Snape had instead found comfort and pleasure in Harry’s company, Harry became important to him. His desire, starting earlier that school year, had even started to rear its ugly head no matter how he pushed the thoughts aside. Severus knew he needed Harry. He needed him to be all right, to be safe and happy. Snape needed Harry to laugh, to have that gross hope in his eyes. Severus needed Harry, but Severus knew he would never have him.

_ I am a wretch. A Death Eater. A professor lusting after a student _ . _Despicable and unforgivable._

The bourbon burned his lips and tingled around his tongue before landing in an empty stomach. His dark eyes looked down at the amber liquid. A deep sense of self-hatred curled in his gut before he cleared his mind. Thoughtless and allowing himself to pull back from reality, Severus stared down at the glass, worrying about Harry and himself. He had overextended without even the care that he was doing so, fueled by some strange anger that blinded his logic. 

_ Harry bloody Potter, endangering himself and the entire wizarding world no doubt.  _

Even in his thoughts, the words had no bite. 

He heard his door press open. Turning to Poppy with a drink in his hand, Severus looked at the small women and tried to hide his anxiety.

“I’ve known you too long, that frown doesn’t fool me. Come back inside. We’ll talk there.”

Severus tipped the rest of his drink down his gullet and grit his teeth before walking off towards his bedroom, setting his empty glass on the marble island along the way. His shoes tapped against the tile and he felt the light flutter of his cape tug on his shoulders. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to sit in his chair and watch over a sleeping Harry Potter.

As he entered the room, Poppy gestured over to a small piece of parchment on the nightstand. 

“He doesn’t need much else. Even if I could heal him, there’d be little that I could do. You’re a fairly skilled healer yourself, Severus. You've done a good job. I’ve listed a few potions for him that might help him later.” Poppy rolled her lips together, looking back at Harry. “But he isn’t well. His mind took a beating. If you know of anything that could bring him around, I’d suggest you do it. Anything at all to keep his mind empty would help him. I'm worried that he might not want to come back from this one.”

Severus looked down at the boy whose face had relaxed. A dark line of lashes kept his eyes closed and his pink lips parted slightly as he slept. He smiled down at the mop of messy hair, something about the feature unique to Harry touched him. He was alive.

“And Severus, I’ll suggest to Albus he stay here while he mends.” When Snape cast a glance over his shoulder at Poppy, there was something gentle and hopeful in her eyes. “Once he wakes, a week here should do it.”

“To protect the students, of course.”

“Of course. And Severus…”

“Yes, I know. I will stay here and watch him until he wakes. Oh, pity. Whatever will I do without my precious students?”

Poppy laughed and placed a hand on Snape’s arm. “Don’t kid. You’d miss them more than anyone.”

Severus was quiet but his gaze had softened. He would miss them. Regardless of what he said and the act he kept up, Snape cared deeply about his students and their wellbeing.

“Well, I’m off.”

“Goodnight, Poppy."

Severus waited until the fire went red before slouching and slowly walking over to the chair near the head of the bed. Plopping down into the chair heavily enough to make his feet come off the ground momentarily, Snape sat down. His dark eyes watched the slow rise and fall of Harry’s chest before he dropped his head against the back of the wingback chair and closed his eyes. 

“Harry, you are going to be the end of me.”

Despite his fatigue and the desperate ache to crawl into bed beside Harry, Severus took a deep breath in and began to explain the most complex potions he knew to Harry. He hoped that somewhere in Harry’s mind, he felt comforted. He hoped for the first time in a long time. Severus hoped Harry would want to come back. 


	6. Good Morning, Mr. Potter

Harry woke slowly, the spots of daylight crawling through his eyelids. Keeping his eyes shut, overwhelmed by fatigue even though he was just waking up, Harry let out a shaky breath. He searched his mind for the cause of his fatigue but found nothing that could explain the heaviness weighing down his bones. In fact, Harry found very little at all. He pushed desperately hard against his own mind, but there were shimmering walls, strong walls that forbade him entry. He had no clue where he was, how he got there, and why this felt safer than normal.

_ Merlin, what happened?  _ The delicate caress of pain traveled around his body. _Gods, I haven't felt this terrible since first year when Quirrell, Voldemort, whatever, knocked me out._

Opening his eyes, he saw dark wooden moulding surrounding a stone ceiling that was high off the ground and vaulted. It was dark in the corners. Tilting his head back on the dark pillow with a groan he looked up at the massive window situated behind the bed. Harry’s eyes were drawn to the long black, velvet curtains that had been pulled open to let sunlight stream through the window. From his angle, Harry was able to make out little more than a cloudy sky. Pressing himself up into and bringing his legs in to sit cross-legged, Harry felt his stomach lurch. The muscles in his neck and back seized. Holding his breath, he slowly straightened up and the muscles began to calm though it was clear to him they did not want to.

_ I feel like I got run over by a troll.  _ Swaying a bit from side to side, Harry stretched. Finally releasing his muscles enough to lift his arms overhead, he sighed. _Why does this all feel so familiar to me?_ He licked at his chapped lips. _I hope Snape is all right. He'd lose his mind if I let myself get kidnapped._ A gentle thought nipped at the back of his mind, **_He_** _would never let that happen._

Every muscle in his body felt thick and heavy as if he’d been dosed with some immobility potion. Upon coming upright though, Harry realized several things. The first was that someone had placed his wand near his hand while he slept. The second was that his glasses were resting gently on his face. Then the light smell of cinnamon hit him. Harry knew beyond the shadow of a doubt where he was. And he knew that _someone_ had sat beside him with their afternoon cocoa that had two sticks cinnamon and was infused with peppermint. 

_ I'll be damned. I'm in Snape's rooms! _ He inhaled deeply and smiled softly at the feeling of safety. _Severus Snape. Saved my arse again, no doubt._

Craning his neck, he saw delicate snow dusting the ice on the lake. Harry couldn't help the flutter in his stomach. Nervously testing the waters, he stood atop the bed to get a better view of the lake knowing well that if Snape saw him he'd be hexed into oblivion. The soft mattress sunk slightly beneath his feet as he stood. There the lake sat in all its glory. It was a big thing, beautifully nestled between the rolling mountains surrounding Hogwarts. The ground surrounding it looked crisp, full of snow and frozen grass. A thin sheet of ice, enchanted no doubt for the students to skate, had formed, and atop it sat a light dusting of snow. 

_ Of course. Bugger loves the lake. Talks about it every chance he gets.  _

Harry's smile grew as he looked at the lake. He had always enjoyed it fair enough, but until Snape rattled on one late night in an inebriated state about its beauty and peace, Harry had never cast it a second glance. Now, he saw it through Snape's eyes. Felt the serenity rolling off in gentle waves. Even saw how lovely it would be to cozy up beside it with a weighty book.

_ Snape, who are you turning me into? _ Harry laughed to himself. _'Mione would slap me for..._ Something dark and angry jabbed at his psyche and he sat back down. The exhaustion had returned and the muscles which had held him without protest moments ago had suddenly decided to go on strike. He rubbed at the spot between his eyebrows and sighed. In another moment, he had forgotten what he was thinking about entirely. Scanning the rest of the room, Harry felt a mischievous sense of play coil inside his belly.

_ I’m in Snape’s room. His  _ **_actual_ ** _ room, not just his quarters. I feel like I'm seeing something I shouldn't, something forbidden. _

His eyes caught the chair positioned in the far corner of the room beside the fireplace. Atop it were clothes and what appeared to be a potion. Standing slowly, testing his legs on the hard dark wood of the floors, Harry’s knees creaked and his back groaned.

_ Bloody hell, how long have I been in bed? Guess the floor isn't quite as forgiving as the mattress. _

His bare feet landed on the cool wooden floor. Quickly, he stepped onto the cozy rug, wiggling his toes with a smile. As he looked back towards the chair and fireplace, he saw a small silver potion sitting atop a neatly folded pile of loungewear, black sweats and a Gryffindor-red, long-sleeve shirt. Quietly padding over, Harry shivered until the warmth of the low fire crackling in the fireplace hit him. _Think of everything, do you Snape?_ Harry slipped on the pants, forgoing the underwear that had been left and choosing to go commando as he preferred. 

As he finished tugging the shirt over his head and upending his glasses in the process, Harry found himself tumbling towards the chair. The nasty fatigue was back with a vengeance. This time, Harry was worried. He had never been this tired and it had never hit him in waves like this. Grabbing the phial of potion and the small note attached, he collapsed into the wingback chair, wheezing. His head hit the back of the chair as he closed my eyes.

_ Merlin, what has happened to me? I've been tired before, but never like this. Am I cursed?  _ Rubbing his lips together slowly, he tried to remember what happened but found only blank space. He opened his eyes to stare up at the ceiling and felt desire pool low in his belly. _Well, have been too tired for that lately._ _But I can't. Not in Snape's rooms. He's probably got some charm set up in here._

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Harry quickly performed a cleaning spell and shaved the hair gathering on his face with his wand. He craved the warm water of a shower, even the gentle scrape of blades against his skin but with how tired he was, he assumed that would be a real problem. As much as he wanted to take a shower, fantasize, and dive head-first into a spread of food, Harry knew the first two would have to wait.

_ Food. Then maybe a shower. Wouldn't want to collapse while wanking.  _ He laughed lightly to himself. But the desire wasn't going away. 

Rolling the potion in his hand, he set it down in his lap.  Opening the small piece of folded parchment that had been beneath it, Harry looked down at the neat cursive he knew well. 

“Come to me when you’ve woken.”

That was all the note said.

His breath hitched as he read the words and he couldn’t understand why. There was such a commanding presence to them, but something about them stirred desire inside of Harry. Ever since Harry had begun to see Snape in a more pleasant light, he couldn’t deny what he was feeling. Whenever the man got close to him, Harry practically leaned into the smell, the warmth that radiated off Severus. Harry closed his eyes and imagined the first time they’d brewed together. Snape had been so receptive to Harry’s touch, his lips parting and his breath ghosting across Harry’s forearm as he wiped the potion off his forehead. Feeling himself growing hard at the memory of how the soft hair contrasted with the intense gaze, Harry pulled himself out of his pants.

_ When we started brewing... Merlin, he has no idea what that does to me.  _ All thoughts about food first vanished.

Taking himself in hand, Harry slowly stroked up and down his cock, twisting his hand around his head with a low moan. His cheeks turned red and his breath quickened with his pace. Images of Snape pressing against him, grabbing at his cock, and taking him from behind filled Harry’s mind as he pumped himself more quickly. 

Pulling his lip into his mouth, he focused on the smell of the room. Something about Snape’s scent had always driven him mad. It was fresh but wild with a hint of potion to it no matter what. Harry dwelled on the sensual images, smiling to himself as he thought of what it would be like to be the object of Snape’s single-minded focus. 

_ Bet he’d be a great lover. Attentive and caring but wouldn’t treat me like glass. Not like the others. All hesitant and nervous to hurt the boy-who-lived. No, he’d be sure of himself. Taking what was his but focusing on me. Merlin, what would that be like? Under his focus. Fuck. _

Harry’s breath sped up with his hand again as he felt his want curling in his stomach. His brain shifted hard from thoughts of Snape’s cock to thoughts of his lips pressed against his with a desperate hunger to them. Harry imagined running his tongue over the crooked teeth and tasting sweet cocoa on Snape's tongue. His heartbeat pounded with the thundering footsteps of his approaching orgasm as he thought about how soft the lips would be against his, how tender they would be the morning after. 

Then Harry imagined the fierce gaze of the obsidian eyes as the pink lips moved around the words "I love you".

_ Severus… oh, Merlin. What it’d be like to have him love me. Gods, fuck! _

“Severus... fuck!”

With the thought of being loved and cherished by Severus, Harry came hard, shooting across the shirt and his hands. 

Before he had time to fully come down, Harry heard a loud alarm ring through the rooms followed by a massive crash. Muttering a quick cleaning spell, Harry cleaned himself and the chair of his cum. Slightly miffed he couldn't enjoy the afterglow, Harry yanked his pants over his cock. Still in a daze and definitely not thinking about what he just did and where he swallowed the silvery potion. A shot of adrenaline urged his feet forward as he ran towards the potions lab. Something in the potion had at least given him a jump of energy.

Harry burst into the potions lab to a strange sight. Snape had been knocked onto his arse on the floor. He sat with his legs splayed as he leaned against the wall, arms hanging limply by his side. A delicate flush colored his neck and cheeks as his mouth hung slightly open in shock. Harry stood for a moment, watching the dark eyes gaze in horror at the exploded cauldron. Snape’s eyebrows were raised in shock, nearly disappearing into his hairline and as Harry continued staring, he realized he could see the rapid rise and fall of the strong chest. Snape looked as if he’d never blown up a cauldron before. 

But then the flush caught Harry’s eyes. It was growing from a pale pink to a ferocious red. With his hair tied back low and loosely, Harry could even see that Snape’s ears had gone crimson. About to say something, Harry let his eyes drag lower. Snape was hard. Horribly so. Swallowing thickly around his own arousal, Harry quickly averted his eyes.

_ Bollocks, why’s he- _

“I have not had such a disaster in twenty years.”

“One that knocked you on your arse?”

“That has never happened.”

Harry laughed, flicking his eyes from his shoes to Snape’s eyes then his bulge and back to his shoes.

_ Bloody safer looking at my shoes.  _

“It’s been twenty years since I exploded a cauldron.” 

Snape stayed immobile, staring in shock at his explosion.

“Well, what happened? Wrong cauldron or?”

“I was not paying attention.” The color in his cheeks grew. “I became distracted.”

This time it was Harry’s turn to gape. The dark eyes looked over at him, quickly shielding whatever emotion he’d given to the burnt cauldron. The eyebrows dropped and that intense gaze landed on him, making Harry squirm.

“Do not give me such a look.” 

"You. Seriously?"

Snape grunted and looked back to the cauldron. "Is it so terribly hard to believe I became distracted?"

"Yes! I don't think I've ever... You getting distracted just _doesn't_ happen. There has to be-"

"Potter," Snape growled out a warning.

The dark eyes snapped over to him again, embarrassed fury crackling there. Raising his hands in defeat, Harry averted his gaze for a moment. When he looked back, Snape was glaring at the cauldron as if it had personally spited him. Harry walked over, offering his hand to Snape who looked at it distrustingly.

“Come off it, I’m just gonna help you get off your arse.”

Snape’s hand landed in his. Harry sucked in a quiet breath at the tingling of flesh on flesh. Pulling Snape up, Harry didn’t step back and instead looked at the onyx eyes now glaring down at him. Harry knew if he breathed a little too deeply he’d come into contact with that bulge.

_ Gods, he’s so close. _

“If you don’t mind.” Snape pulled his hand out of Harry’s grasp and elegantly stepped out of the way and exited the room, leaving a mess behind him and a very confused Harry trailing behind him.

Severus motioned to the couch. Shuffling past Snape, Harry sat down, immediately relaxing into the fabric and suddenly thankful to be seated. He rest his head against the black fabric and sucked in a tired breath. Much to Harry’s surprise Severus sat beside him hardly leaving a gap between them. Harry rolled his head over towards Snape and was greeted with a disturbing sight. Snape was close, closer than he'd ever been, and Harry could see the normally impassive features of the face filled with unease. The dark eyes were filled with heavy worry, any trace of the fire that had been there gone.

The frown pulled the thick brows together and the hair curtained the eyes that were uncharacteristically wide. All Harry wanted to do was reach in and smooth out the frown decorating Snape’s face. His lips pulled tight, ticking upwards the way they usually did when he had something to say. The onyx eyes bounced between each of Harry’s eyes before looking up at his scar. 

“Do you have a headache?”

Harry shook his head.

"You just awoke?"

"Yeah, couple minutes back. Just before you got distracted or whatever."

"Mm." Snape leaned closer and Harry felt warm breath puff across his cheeks. "Do you remember anything at all?"

"Nothing." Snape sighed and pulled back a few inches, seemingly relieved. "What's going on?"

But Snape wasn't paying attention. His gaze was fixed off to the side as he analyzed something. Harry crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly worried too. He hadn't ever seen Snape so upset over anything. Something was definitely off.

"How are you feeling?" Harry opened his mouth but Snape cut him off quickly, "And do make sure you relay _every_ detail to me. You have the most annoying habit, Mr. Potter, of leaving out the important facts."

The bite to Snape's voice warmed something in Harry. The familiarity of it smudged away some of his fear. "I feel all right.  Just really tired. Little dizzy.” He looked down at his hands. _I'm leaving out a lot. I can trust him, I don't have to worry._ Harry sagged against the couch further. The dark eyes narrowed as they swept over Harry’s body, reluctantly returning to his eyes. _Don't lie to him, Harry. You're a Gryffindor. Be brave._ "Bloody exhausted, Professor. I can't remember ever being this tired. Blimey, feels like I was hit with every curse in the book."

Snape hissed. Harry wanted to care but as soon as he mentioned his exhaustion, he seemed to have broken whatever spell the adrenaline had over him. Deflating against  the couch a little more, Harry leaned to the side and was pleased to feel Snape's body under his head. There was a moment where the body beneath Harry stiffened and he wondered, even as he was beginning to doze off, if perhaps he was upsetting Snape further. But then the long arms wrapped around him. The strong body below him relaxed slightly and Harry let his eyes slide shut. 

It was a fatigue he hadn’t known before. 

"Do take care not to drool, Mr. Potter. Your attention span may be short, but you need to stay awake."

Harry nodded, ruffling his hair against the stiff attire.

"Did you take the potion?"

"Yeah. What was it? Hardly had any taste."

Snape snorted. "Of course you are concerned with the taste. It is a sort of calming drought that also reinvigorates muscles."

"Oh. Kinda weird, innit? Who would need to be calm but also ready to run?"

"It would seem that person would be you."

Harry laughed. It was small but he could practically feel Snape's heavy mood lift. "Guess it would be."

"Yes, well."

_ Wait, wait. Did he... Did Snape **make** that potion for me? _

"Snape did you-"

"I could not seem to remove dizziness as a side effect."

"Yeah, but did you-"

“You have been unconscious for six days.”

“I’ve been what?”

Harry rocketed out of the arms and stood rapidly. Snape's hand shout out and yanked Harry to the couch. _S'pose I deserved that._

“Wait, you impatient brat.” Something about the way said it made Harry smile. “You have been unconscious for six days.” Snape pulled a purple potion from his pocket. “Your previous nightmare started to override the Dreamless Sleep that I brew. As such, I’ve been in the process of experimenting to create something new.” Snape looked back at his lab, drawing in a big breath before continuing. “Unsuccessfully, might I add.”

“Harry, the Dark Lord made an attempt on your life. Since then, you have nearly succumbed three times to that attempt. With Dreamless Sleep proving utterly useless, I have been occluding your memories from you instead. The dreams were killing you.”

_ Did Snape wince? What’s going on? Merlin, I've almost died three times and I can't even remember. Well, that's probably the occluding but can wizards even do that? _

“You were becoming more ill every time you experienced them. I understand if you are unwilling to be within my presence any longer though, I suggest you remain here at night. With the Dark Lord still after you, of course, this is the safest place. I can make myself scarce.”

_ Merlin, he looks so tired. His eyes are all dark circles. And bloodshot. With him this close I can practically feel him fighting off exhaustion. _

"I'm not... I wouldn't punish you for saving my life. But can wizards even do that? The occluding I mean."

Snape nodded slowly "No. It should be impossible. There are several issues that arise, but I managed to negate them with a few potions. No wizard has been successful in such an endeavor before." He shifted slightly. "Theoretically, any good occlumens would have naturally blocked me out but you did not.”

There was a small smile budding on Snape’s lips and Harry reciprocated. 

_ He’s joking. Wow, he’s actually joking! I’ll never get used to that. And damn proud that he did this. He should be too. _

“Good thing I suck at that.”

“Yes, indeed."

"That's pretty cool, you know. That you did that."

The dark eyes stared at him and for the life of him, Harry had no idea what was going on in Snape's head. 

"I have been holding them back until you recovered enough to manage them yourself.” Snape’s Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I can hold them indefinitely.”

_ Oh, I see. There's a bloody toll. Nearly killing yourself being in my head all the time. Oh no. Oh gods. He was in my… fuck. He saw...fuck! Dammit. _

“Would you like me to stop occluding?”

“Yes. Now, please.”

Harry didn’t miss the slump of the shoulders as Severus felt a blanket of relief wash over him. 

"You're sure?"

"I'll be fine." 

The walls gradually receded from Harry’s mind. Memories of being trapped in the room ignited panic. He looked up to those dark eyes ringed with worry lines but in them, he found strength. Calming himself down, he maintained eye contact as the memories washed over him little by little. 

The betrayal from his friends burned him terribly. He couldn’t help but focus on the pain as he sat on the couch. Desperately looking to find something to grab onto in Snape’s eyes, Harry began to tremble. The memories suddenly stopped coming.

_ They’re just like my family. They just want me caged up. I’m just a freak to them. _

“Harry?”

The low timbre of the voice cut through his panicked thoughts and brought him back to the moment. As he looked at Snape, the eyes questioned him.

Harry said, “I’ll be fine. I’m ready.”

Severus paused, clearly doubting Harry’s decision, but after a long breath, began to remove the walls surrounding the dream.

For a moment, Harry was fine. He couldn’t believe the terror plastered clearly across Snape’s face as he scrutinized Harry. Harry saw the memories and for several seconds was completely unaffected by them.

“See? Nothing to-” Harry cut himself off with a harsh scream.

He felt his eyes scanning around the room but could see nothing. Snape was gone. The cozy stone walls of the dungeons had disappeared. The very couch he had been seated on, evaporated. Harry had been sucked back into the dream. Tears streaming down his face, his body experienced the sensations of that night over and over, Harry fell into a strange place where once again Vernon was at his back and Voldemort down his throat. His scar burned and bright lights exploded in his vision. He could feel himself screaming but heard no sound other than the gross breathing of his uncle and the manic laughter from Voldemort. 

He was back in that terrible upstairs bedroom where he was a prisoner to demented desires. Harry could feel the cold of the room against his skin, the cuts carving lines into his back. The memory of the nightmare, the wicked invasion of his enemy and his long-time captor began drowning him. Harry was lost to the pain. He could feel himself suffocating. The life slowly slipping from his veins. Forgetting that he was still inside Snape’s quarters, Harry began to give in to the feeling. He didn’t want to fight against the pain anymore.

Without knowing how long the torment continued, all of a sudden Harry heard a voice. Snape’s voice. It cut through the nightmare.

“I will protect you, Harry.”

Suddenly, Harry felt strong arms wrapped around him. The soft silk of Snape's cloak wrapped around the oozing cuts and burns. There was salve being pressed into his skin, tears shed on his bare chest. Harry could hear the words of complex potions being rattled off, almost sung to him. He breathed in and no longer smelled the disgusting decay of Voldemort but the warmth of Snape and bourbon. His forehead distantly registered the stiff brewing attire Snape wore and as Harry turned his head, he could feel a fabric button press against his eyebrow.

“Harry? Dammit. Harry, I… Please.”

The words came out thick in Snape’s throat and Harry heard it tremble. He could feel the vibration of the gravelly voice roll through the chest and it dawned on Harry that he was being hugged. The long arms were wrapped tightly around Harry, one on his lower back and the other cradling his head, pulling it closer to the chest. He was standing, held safely against Snape's chest. Snape explaining potion after potion hummed through his head, grounded him, and Harry realized that too was part of his memory.

In a quiet voice, rattling with fear he heard Snape say, “I should not have allowed this happen. You were not ready. I am sorry.” The arms around him pulled him deeper into the embrace and Harry could hear the quick but steady beat of Snape's heart.

The nightmare receded further. Voldemort and his stench, the scratching feeling of the floor on Harry’s hands, and the terrible pain flashing like lightning across his body all began to disperse as he nuzzled closer into Snape. 

Harry brought his arms up and found a strong back beneath the palms of his hand as he hugged Snape back. He breathed out shakily and the nightmare was gone. He was standing in the middle of the potions lab with the bitter taste of multiple potions mingling on his tongue. He blinked, clearing the tears from his eyes. Then, Harry sighed heavily as he listened to the steady but quick beating of Snape’s heart. Content to stay in the moment he closed  his eyes slowly. Harry listened a few moments longer, allowing himself to recover before dropping his hands and stepping back. 

Tipping backward and nearly falling, the strong arms that grounded him back to reality grabbed his shoulders and kept him on his feet. Harry let out a nervous laugh.

“Guess I wasn't so fine, huh?”

Snape’s eyes were tired and sad but Harry saw something spark to life in them. 

“You need to rest.” Then the eyes were flaming. "You petulant little...agh!" Snape shouted off into the distance before caging up his emotions. "You cannot walk can you?"

Harry smiled weakly and shook his head.  Holding onto Harry’s hand and looping his other arm across Harry’s back, Snape began guiding Harry towards his bedroom. 

“What, I can’t keep sleeping in your bed?”

The dark eyes flashed a condescending look in his direction as the fingers dug into Harry’s shoulder with restraint. 

“You are not the only one who needs to sleep. As I have told you before, the world does not revolve around you.”

“No, it revolves around you doesn’t it?”

Snape clucked his tongue and escorted Harry to his bed. Harry crashed against the bed, laying on his back and looking up at the lion. He was more exhausted than he had been in the first place, which an hour ago he would have thought were impossible. But Harry was impossibly glad to be home, in his room and looking up at the lion. A smile ghosted across his face. He felt loved here. Cherished in a way no one had managed to do before, not even Sirius. Sirius and his friends who always seemed to see him as something else. The boy wonder, the ghost of a dead man. But here he was Harry. Just Harry. His stomach growled.

“Was I long?”

“Two hours.”

_ In that hell for two hours. Felt like two years. _ Harry laced his hands together under his head as he kept looking at the lion, blinking slowly and fighting against the fatigue.  _ Snape saying that… That was definitely part of the dream. I wonder how he did that? _

“You need to eat.” 

The green eyes peeled off the lion and moved towards Snape. “Yeah, starving. No offense to the nutrition potions.”

“You made them.”

Harry smiled. “Yeah, guess I did.” He listened as Snape summoned Dobby and mumbled something to him. Even as he was being hushed by Severus, Dobby’s excited voice carried to Harry. “What’d you get?”

“Potato stew. You have seemed to enjoy it in the past.”

“I love it. It's my favorite.”

"Yes, well."

_ There it is again. He's nervous. _

Harry was quiet. The recent events still clung to his thoughts. He felt confused and dirty. 

“How did you do that?”

Snape walked closer and Harry felt the bed depress near his head. 

“Speak to you?”

“Yeah. How did you manage that?”

“I did not manage anything. You reached out to me. I have not been able to research it yet as I’ve been taking care of a Gryffindor brat whose affinity for trouble knows no bounds.”

Harry laughed but quickly stopped himself.  _ How did I do that? I’m no master at that stuff, I can hardly keep Snape out of my head most times we practice and that’s when I have good warning and good circumstances. _

“Oh.”

“Indeed.”

“What-”

“I will relay this to you once as I do not particularly enjoy discussing unfortunate happenings. You will ask no questions. I witnessed your nightmare. When you attempted connecting us, you revealed the situation. I arrived in the dorms, removed the spellwork that kept you there,” Harry noticed how Snape bristled as he spoke. “And then used legilimency to take you out of the dream. Unfortunately, your theory was correct. The Dark Lord has discovered how to infiltrate and control your mental landscape when you sleep. It is as real as this mark on my arm.”

Harry looked at Snape, who fell silent as he held his left arm. His eyes were forlorn and focused on some distant memory. Harry wondered, for the first time, what it was that Snape was carrying on his shoulders from his past.

“Was I-”

“Harry…” Severus trailed off and sighed. Harry rolled his head to the side, taking his eyes off the magnificent lion briefly as he looked over to a slouching Snape whose head was bowed. The strong back seemed sad. With a shudder, Severus righted himself. His head stayed bowed, turned away from Harry’s prying eyes. “I do not enjoy engaging in morbid discussion.”

“Morbid discussion? That’s rich coming from you.”

Severus was quiet, allowing several minutes to pass before picking his head up.

“The food will be here shortly. Would you like assistance sitting up?”

“No. I’m okay. I just need to lay down for a sec. Just a little longer.”

Snape got off the bed as Harry slowly shimmied higher up the bed until he was propped against the headboard. Pulling out Harry’s chair for his work, Snape sat down.

“You can go.”

“If I leave, you will choke and die.”

“Ye of little faith.” Harry waggled his eyebrows.

“Harry, you are a disaster.”

Snape’s stern features were set with confidence as he looked over to Harry and Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “I hope you never change.” The shock was evident and Snape was quickly looking at his boots as a pale pink tinged his cheekbones.

Moments later, Dobby popped into the room quickly setting to work laying out a tray full of soup and treacle tarts for Harry before rushing over to Snape with a plate of steak, potatoes, and a bowl of strawberries. 

“Dobby, I didn’t order anything.”

“Master Snape is stubborn. Dobby knows. Enjoy your meal, Master Harry, Master Snape.”

Dobby popped out, leaving Snape with a heaping pile of food and a chuckling Harry. Snape said nothing, only waved Harry off as he bit into a strawberry. 

Harry looked down at the multiple slices of treacle tarts. "Did you get this for me? All five slices or was that Dobby too?"

The blush darkened as Snape said, "Yes. You have had a trying week."

Together they ate in silence until Harry looked up at Snape powering through his food. The steak was demolished and he had only a piece of potato left. All that remained were a few strawberries. Harry smiled and said, “Thank you.” Snape eyed him as he popped the last potato into his mouth. “I mean, for saving me.”

Snape swallowed, dabbing his mouth on his napkin. Turning his full attention to Harry he said, “Someone has to save your stupid arse.” 

Harry laughed and this time, from eyes narrowed with glee, he saw Snape’s lips pull back to reveal slightly crooked teeth and an absolutely gorgeous smile.

“One thing, Harry. Your  _ friends… _ ”

“Hard-pressed to call them that after what happened.”

Snape paused and kept his entire focus on Harry. “It is never wise to write off the past loyalties of friends when the Dark Lord is intent on destroying you. Even if they are...Gryffindors.”

Harry scoffed. “So I’m supposed to forgive them? For doing that?”

The dark eyes held firm in their gaze. “No. But do  _ try _ and use your head.”

"How am I supposed to do that? They...they betrayed me! Locked me up like Vernon and...and...let Voldemort do that to me after they _knew_ it was going to happen. I can't just... I won't. How can you just-" So incensed by what Snape suggested, Harry had forgotten that he had a chunk of treacle tart still in his mouth. And now he was choking.

_ Bloody hell. Of fucking _ _course._

He felt a shot of magic hit him in the throat and looked up to see a very angry Snape looking down his wand at Harry.

"You. Are. A. Disaster." He spat out the words through gritted teeth. "I have spent the last six days monitoring your health and _now_ you choose to choke on treacle tart?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sorry, really. I am."

"Doubtful."

"I just...I don't get it. Why should I even think of them as friends at all?"

"They are not your friends today, nor were they last week. And they will not be your friends tomorrow. But they were your friends. _Think_ Harry."

Then it hit Harry like a ton of bricks. His mouth went slack as Snape nodded.

"Oh gods, Dumbledore?"

"Precisely." 

"He...how?"

Snape crossed his hands in his lap. The fierce focus of the eyes were back and he said, with venom in his voice, "The Imperius."

And Harry, who had done a great job managing everything thus far, promptly fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha! The smut begins! I know it took six chapters for absolutely anything to happen, but I hope y'all enjoyed it. Also, Harry is okay! As always, let me know what you think :)


	7. The Leather Jacket

“Your ability to constantly annoy me is where you excel, Mr. Potter.” 

Snape grunted through his teeth as he cleaned up the remnants of the food now coloring Harry’s clothes cream white. Chunks of potato stuck to the folds of his blanket almost as an afterthought. Snape quietly seethed as he cleaned Harry. After he had fainted, Harry had managed to knock stew all over everything and while it was magically coming out of the clothes and bedspread just fine, Severus could not seem to get it out of Harry's unruly hair. He was on the verge of exploding the rest of the wizard's hair when Dobby popped in to collect the dishes. The ferocity of Snape’s features kept him quiet. Even he knew better than to disrupt an already upset Severus Snape. 

Somehow, Snape found it within himself to grind out a strained, “Thank you, Dobby.”

Dobby left with a small, strange little bow. Snape couldn’t help but quirk his lips upward in his own strange display of affection.  _ That house-elf is, unfortunately, the best I have encountered, save Silvas. Any elf able to maintain the home of a Potions Master is worthy of some praise. Dobby, however...that strange elf certainly earns his keep.  _ He scoffed as he left the room and headed towards his potions lab.  _ Leave it to Potter to discover the most peculiar house-elf who happens to have… _

Snape stopped dead in his tracks.  _ Of course. _ With a snap of his fingers, Snape set a new plan in motion.

“Master Snape, sir? How cans Dobby be helping, sir?”

“You were Lucius Malfoy’s house-elf, yes?”

“Yes, Master Snape.” 

“Certainly, he had others.” Dobby looked down, his ears wilting. Snape licked his lips and bowed lower, making himself less imposing though unaware he was doing so. The small little elf seemed to relax slightly until Snape said, “You were his favorite.” Snape stated it as fact. The elf wrung his hands. “Listened to his secrets, did his bidding. I suppose you may even have learned how to trace a wizard. Yes, I believe you and your house-elf magic have learned how to trace even the most talented wizard.”

Dobby’s large eyes widened impossibly large. “Dobby cannot be talking like this.” Dobby ran towards the wall, intent on bashing his head there but Snape’s hand shot out with the expertise of having caught thousands of potion ingredients and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck.

“Not so fast you little worm. I need you to do something for me.”

Dobby eyed him nervously. “Dobby is a free elf.”

“Yes, of course. But you care for Potter do you not?” There was silence for a moment and Snape sighed. “I do expect you will ask for compensation.”

Then, of course, Dobby spoke up. “Oh yes sir, Dobby cares very much for Harry Potter.”

Snape nodded. “Then consider this a favor to him.” The large eyes just blinked. “Would ten galleons suffice?”

A loud wheezing sound came from Dobby at the more than generous offer. Snape winced at the sound as Dobby made a renewed effort to slip free and bang his head against the floor. He had thought he gauged the price below what was acceptable for such a mission, but the terrible sound coming below him countered the offer well enough.

“Shut  _ up _ .” He hissed. “Harry is sleeping, you pathetic little-” At the use of Harry’s name, Dobby immediately stood still.

“Harry, sir?”

_ Even the damn elf takes note if I use his first name. _

“Your compensation. Tell me what you want.” He spat out the words but they did nothing to dull the glint in Dobby’s eyes.

“Dobby wants a sock.”

Snape peered down at Dobby, expecting a joke. After realizing none were coming and that Harry had created a weird sock monster, he nodded. “I will give you three.” Remembering Harry who had grumbled one night that Dobby had stolen one of every pair of socks he owned, Snape continued, “I suppose you will want them to be mismatched.”

The eyes glittered with tears. “Master Snape is too kind.”

He couldn’t bring himself to snap at the house-elf. Instead, he rolled his eyes and grit his teeth together. “Dobby, trace Hermione and Ron. Do not allow them to see or sense you. Absolute discretion.” Snape’s dark eyes narrowed and Dobby stood more proudly. “And keep a close watch on Albus Dumbledore. A very close watch, I’m afraid. Are you capable of such a task?”

“For Master Harry and Master Snape, Dobby can. But…” Dobby jerked roughly, trying to get out of Snape’s strong grasp. He went limp with a sad whine.

With a heavy huff of annoyance, Snape grabbed him with both hands. “Dobby, please. Can you or can’t you accomplish this?”

“Theys is Harry’s friends.”

“Yes, quite. That is why I am asking you to watch them.” Snape quickly analyzed the situation. “Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of this school, wants them to surprise Harry but he is terribly afraid of surprises you see.”

“Oh yes! Harry Potter hates surprises. When Dobby surprises Harry Potter he is always mad.”

_ Yes, I quite believe that to be true.  _

“Dobby, report only to me what you discover. Good or bad, speak only to me. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir, Master Snape. Dobby will trace them.” 

Dobby hesitated a moment, seemingly thinking very hard about something. Only the slight whistle of breath through Snape’s nose cut through the quiet. He relaxed his grip but a profound worry overcame him. Dobby was a free elf, after all, and his loyalties could easily lie in Dumbledore seeing as the man gave him money. He employed him when no other would, though Snape was beginning to wonder if he could encourage Dobby to help Silvas at his home. Regardless, Severus knew that Albus had a way of exuding his charm over everyone he encountered.

“Master Harry is in danger, isn’t he?”

There was something pleading in the blue eyes. Something that nipped at the protective spot in Snape’s heart. “Yes, Dobby. Harry is in great danger.”

“Dobby will keep Harry Potter safe.”

They stood in the quiet for a moment before Severus let a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Snape released the elf and the small quirk of his lips returned. In a whisper that relayed all his concerns, he said, “Thank you.”

Dobby, contrary to his general attitude, smiled at Snape and said, “Yous is welcome, Master Snape.”

He vanished with a loud crack and Snape stood with a pained grimace. In the past week of nursing Harry back to health he had spent entirely too much time hunched over either a cauldron or a bed. His back was paying the price. Stalking into the lab, he snatched two dreamless sleep potions from the shelf before storming back to Harry’s side. 

The bed dipped below him as he watched Harry begin to fitfully rouse. The same biting sadness that he had felt when he thought to have lost Harry returned. This time, Severus found it much more difficult to hold back the tears.

_ Harry will wake any moment, Severus. He cannot see you crying, not after all this. Not after whatever the idiot was doing when I still occupied space in- _

_ “ _ S’vrus?”

“Yes, Harry. I’m here.” 

“I don’t think-”

He pressed the cold glass to Harry’s lips and commanded him to swallow. Harry obliged. He swallowed down the purple potion and blinked. Fear coiled in Snape’s gut as he realized he hadn’t even remembered to chastise Harry for using his name. In fact, he found like he quite liked the way the tired mouth moved around the sound.

“Oh, you _**git**_.” Harry yawned wide. He dropped his hand atop the pale hand holding the phial close to him. Severus nearly shivered at the warmth. “Don’t wanna talk, huh?”

“Not tonight, Harry.”

Something whirred inside Severus as he watched the emerald eyes sleepily blink at him. There was a soft look of peace blanketing Harry’s features and it warmed his belly. Unable and unwilling to turn away, the obsidian eyes kept looking down at Harry’s half-smile and lidded emeralds. Harry opened his mouth and yawned like a lion. Severus felt his lips curling into a warm grin but he didn’t dare stop them. Not in this room, not next to Harry. He felt the warm hand give his a gentle squeeze before leaving it cold.

“Tomorrow then.” Harry’s eyes slipped close as he mumbled, “I like your smile, S’vrus.”

Severus brushed the hair out of Harry’s eyes before pulling the blanket up and leaving the room. At the threshold, he glanced back. A strange sensation seized his chest.

Shaking it off with a click of the door behind him, he walked slowly to his room, rolling the potion bottle over and over again in his hand until it was warm.  _ I do not love him. Severus, you cannot love him. You cannot!  _

He dropped onto the edge of the large bed with a sniffle. The strenuous workweeks were bad enough before he took charge of Harry. Since his birthday, Severus had been teaching the same grueling amount of hours while also managing increased demands from both his masters and constantly watching over Harry. While this week had given him a bit of a respite in the form of not teaching, he had several new issues to tend to. Worse than all of that, as he sniffled again, he realized he might be catching a cold. Casting aside that bit of worry with another sniffle, Severus began to toe-off his boots when a head began to emerge in the flames of his fire.

_ Damn. I must not have closed the Floo after my conversation with Minerva this _ _morning_.

"Severus?" 

Dumbledore's voice rang out clearly through the small room and slipped into Snape's bones like shards of ice.

Coming to rest on his knees beside the fireplace, Severus tilted his head back and kept his firm mask of apathy on.

"Headmaster."

"How is the boy?"

"Mr. Potter will live."

A deathly quiet embraced them before Dumbledore said, "Yes, I quite thought he might. Well, when he wakes then, send him to my office. There is much to discuss, Severus. Plans to be made."

"Regretfully, I cannot."

"Severus?"

"Pomfrey." Severus was exhausted and not in the mood. "Albus, this hasn't changed since yesterday morning. He will be unable to visit you until he is healed."

"A dilemma indeed. What with Voldemort moving again."

_ I am being baited. Albus, you _ _idiot._

"Is there anything else I can do for you Albus or would you like to watch me sleep?"

"No, no, my boy."

But Dumbledore's head did not disappear from the fire.

"There is something, Albus."

"Yes, but only the hunch of an old man." The eyes locked on Snape's and bored through him with a vicious stare. "Do you think Lily would approve?"

Snape bristled. "Of what?"

"Your infatuation."

"I have no infatuation."

"No? Not even with young Harry?"

"No." Snape ran his tongue over his crooked teeth before saying, "I take what is mine, Albus. If I wanted him, I would have had him already."

Dumbledore blinked then smiled. "Yes, I suppose you would have. Goodnight, my boy."

The fire faded back to low flames and Snape flicked his wand at it, shutting the Floo. 

As he undressed he thought, _No, not even with Harry. I cannot._

He slipped between the sheets and drank down the potion himself. Sleep slunk towards him and Snape whimpered. It was a sad, desperate sound. Severus knew he loved Harry. Severus knew that he would be robbed of yet another thing he wished to have and to hold. And Severus knew that tonight, he would be sleeping soundly without a dream of Harry dancing through his head. And that, quite possibly, bothered him the most.

*************************************

Severus snapped his eyes open. A gale-force wind was tearing through his room. It carried the scent of a delectable breakfast, minus toast that clearly smelled burnt. Sitting bolt upright in bed, the pale chest covered in a moderate blanket of black hair heaved. The flesh raised in tiny bumps as Snape stared in fury at the door leading to his rooms. Even his hair blew back from the wind. It whipped around his bare neck and caused a shiver to race down his spine. His eyes never left the door. After waiting only a moment, he saw what he expected.

A shot of white magic pierced through the door and exploded against his curtains, throwing them to the side and bathing the room in bright, morning light.

_ You are paying for trusting the brat enough to forgo wards.  _ A quieter voice said,  _ Or paying for forcing him from bed. _ Snape clucked his tongue and tossed off the duvet.  _ Paying for saving his wretched arse is more like it. _

Snape tossed on a warm pair of fitted sweats and a black turtleneck sweater. On his way out, he grabbed a white scarf and tucked it around his throat. He grabbed his wand with a growl and opted to keep it in hand. _I have no idea what this dunderhead is up to this morning. Best to stay vigilant._ The gruff voice of Alastor Moody rumbled through his head. Padding over to his door in his slippers, he gripped the crystal knob and yanked hard. His jaw promptly hit the floor.

Harry stood, panic plastered across his face, as he looked on in horror at the wind coming out of his wand which he was now holding with two hands. All the food, which Snape supposed  _ might _ have looked good was coating every surface. Scrambled eggs were rolling across the carpet. Syrup dripped down the cabinetry and small squares of butter were stuck to the ceiling. The obsidian eyes scoured the room, taking in every piece of bacon pressed against the bookshelf, every link of sausage rolling under the furniture. Severus stood, quietly seething, as he watched the storm of breakfast food and berries whirl around him.

At the center of the cyclone was Harry. Severus took a good look at Harry too. Settling his dark eyes on the boy, he couldn’t hide the sneer lifting his lip into a snarl. His eyebrows were high as he took in Harry who was covered in syrup, chocolate, and berries. If Severus had not been as furious as he was, he may have enjoyed the image but as it stood, he was ready to strangle Harry. The green eyes diverted from the wand tip and looked over to Snape. Widening as his face turned into a sorry mess of bubbling tears and wrinkled features full of apologies, Harry shook his head slightly.

Severus was about to swallow his rage when a pancake flew from his blindspot and smacked him across the face.

“Enough!” He bellowed.

Turning to Harry he began casting spells. “Expelliarmus!” The wand shot from Harry’s hand and the cyclone ravaging the room died with the light clatter of wood against stone. Harry’s head dropped, immediately looking miserable.

As he opened his mouth to speak, Snape said, “Do. Not. Speak. Not one word, Potter.”

With a sharp breath, Snape set about restoring the room to its former glory. Droves of strawberries rolled in from every corner of the room as the bacon unstuck itself from the spines of good books. Severus took a step back to be sheltered by the edges of the bookcases guarding his doorway. Several more pancakes whipped through the air. The onyx eyes looked over and held Harry’s sorry gaze until the last crumb of food was back on the table.

Gliding over to Harry and bringing a sinister air with him, Severus stood toe to toe with the wizard, glaring down his large nose.

Harry whispered, “I’m sorry” and shoved his hands in his flannel pants pockets. Severus continued glaring at the crown of Harry's head as he bowed his chin to his chest in shame. Snape stared a moment longer at the chaotic locks of brown hair before stooping low and grabbing the wand. 

Harry made no move to reclaim it.

_ I cannot possibly punish him for attempting, however terrible, to make me breakfast.  _ Snape held the wand out to Harry, tip towards himself.  _ Harry Potter. The boy-who-will-kill-the-Dark-Lord has quite nearly destroyed my home. He is a brat.  _ Then came the softer, “but”.  _ But he is my brat. _

Snape turned three shades of red before he was able to calm down. The thought came out of nowhere and thoroughly surprised him. When he finally wrangled his emotions back into their small box, he was looking down at a slightly pink-in-the-cheeks Harry Potter.

“Cast a cleansing charm on the food. I assume you are able to heat it without turning my rooms into an inferno?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Snape.” The green eyes narrowed. “In these rooms, you call me Snape.”

“Even after-” 

The dark eyes cut him off and Harry sheepishly smiled. “Got it. Okay. Well…” Harry flicked his wand and the food was once again steaming. “Good morning, I guess.”

“Indeed.”

Snape sat down, keeping his eyes on Harry as he scurried back into the kitchen.  _ That scoundrel best not raise his wand again. I will not be struck by a pancake twice in one sitting.  _ The sound of ceramic grating across marble turned Snape’s eyes away from the Gryffindor and over to the food. He had made all his favorites. Considering Snape never divulged what he fancied for fear of losing it, Harry had done a spectacular job. The first bits of pancake covered in chocolate and strawberry slices hit his mouth with a delicate sweetness that made him almost moan. 

Carafe and mugs in hand, Harry sauntered back to the table. “It good? I made it myself.”

“You what?” Snape swallowed a mouthful of whipped cream and waffle before saying. “You haven’t poisoned it, I presume.”

“Think we’re a bit beyond that.”

“Yes. We are.”

Harry slid the cup of coffee towards Snape whose eyes tightened microscopically. It wasn’t steaming.

“Sorry, guess I let it get cold from the-”

“The cyclone tormenting my home?”

“Yeah, that.” Harry laughed. 

Snape lifted the glass to his mouth, desperately needing caffeine but unwilling to embarrass himself by attempting a warming charm in front of Harry. He grimaced as the cool liquid sloshed down his throat.

“Could’ve warmed that, you know. Don’t have to drink it like that to spare my feeling.”

“When have I ever spared your feelings?”

“Fair enough.” Harry’s fork screeched across the plate as he stabbed at a sausage. “Sorry. You gonna ‘eat it up?”

“Do finish chewing before speaking.”

“Are you going to heat it up?”

“No.”

“Do you  _ want _ it heated up?”

“Mr. Potter, I am hardly in the mood for twenty questions.”

The green eyes stared at Snape as he continued working through the heap of food on his plate. Harry leaned over and tapped the mug lightly. A curl of steam lifted up into the air. Severus greedily breathed in the enchanting scent of morning coffee. He carefully looked at Harry but the green eyes hardly held his gaze before Harry went back to his breakfast. 

“Anything to say, Potter?” Snape spat his words like venom.

“No. I like it better when you call me Harry though.”

Snape's eyes narrowed in distrust. 

“Oh come off it. We can’t all be perfect all the time. Do you know I can’t for the life of me I can’t pack my things with my wand?” Snape’s eyes widened and the food suddenly tasted sweet again. “No one's really figured it out either. I just say I was raised a muggle, you know? They back off pretty fast. Wouldn’t want to catch my muggle-ness.”

“Yes. Purebloods seem to have no concept of muggle life. I’m not surprised Molly never paid attention to the attire.” Snape snorted. “It isn’t as if it’s all useless. Especially with Arthur as her husband, I would have thought she would appreciate some of the finer aspects of muggle life.”

“You sound as if you’d know.”

The sharp eyes snapped up to Harry. The smile on his face quickly fell, replaced with one of confusion.

“I do know.”

“But you’re a pureblood.”

“Have I explicitly stated that, Harry?”

“Well no, but I just thought that since you were Slytherin…”

“There are plenty of Slytherin who are not purebloods.” Snape banished his plate and began to stand, coffee mug in hand, when Harry’s hand snatched his free wrist.

“Unhand me.”

“Are you muggle-born?”

“Unhand me!”

“No. Half-blood, then?”

Snape inhaled sharply, suddenly agitated that he had even entertained this concept.

“Bloody brilliant! That’s why you got me the jeans? Oh, that’s brilliant! I never thought I’d meet another person here who fucking like  _ jeans _ .”

Rolling his eyes Snape said, “They are practical.”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, yeah they are. Comfortable too. Do you wear a big coat in the winter too? A hat? Merlin, please tell me you have a leather jacket. I feel like you’d like a-”

“Harry.”

Harry promptly shut up and released Severus’s hand. He turned his attention back to the breakfast and went to work clearing the rest of the table as Snape smoothed his hand down his sweater.

“I do not wish to be disturbed while I-”

“Read your paper and drink your coffee. I know. Have I ever disturbed you?”

_ No, you have not. _ Snape was momentarily speechless.  _ You have perfectly respected all my boundaries and commands beneath this roof. I suppose I am still being too harsh on you, Harry. My sincerest apologies.  _ He scoffed to himself.  _ I will never allow you to hear those words though, regardless of your good behavior. _

“I require more than your usual patience. There are papers to grade. However, when I am finished and dressed, we will be taking a trip to a muggle diner called, “Darcy’s” to discuss the situation at hand.”

“All right. What time?”

“When I am finished.”

“Right, so?”

Snape sighed. “Around noon.” Harry nodded and banished the rest of the dishes to the sink. “And Harry,” Snape said as he sat in his chair and picked up his paper, “Draco will be visiting us tonight.”

Harry began sputtering but Snape only tapped his paper. The younger wizard frowned and stormed off to his room. Snape smiled to himself and set about catching up on whatever overdramatized news had been posted.

Not a half-hour after Harry groaned at his unslammable door, he walked into the central area in front of the fire with several books cradled between his biceps. Severus lifted his eyes from the dismal fourth-year paper. Harry met his gaze with a soft smile and plopped into his maroon wingback. The books levitated around him, all flipping over to various bookmarked spots. Pushing the round glasses up the bridge of his nose, he dropped his eyes to the pages and let his smile fall. Severus continued looking at him for several more moments noting that Harry tended to bite his lower lip when he concentrated. 

_ Look at him. Grown-up and bloody brilliant.  _ Severus skimmed the titles of the book.  _ Potions and defense, no doubt working to concoct some life-saving serum without even obtaining mastery in either discipline. He’s a genius stuck in a blundering idiot’s body. _

Severus couldn’t help but continue watching him. After burning the image of Harry tucked up in his chair into his mind, Snape let his eyes slide shut. The dull crackle of the fire fell to the background as Harry’s scratching quill and soft, questioning “hmms” stole Snape’s attention. Severus noticed his chest had fallen into a quiet rhythm, one much softer than his usual tense breathing.

_ I will never have him as mine. It is too great a weakness in the face of Albus and the Dark Lord. As it is, I’ll be fortunate if I make it through this school year. If I don’t perish at the hands of these lunatics this year, I certainly will next year.  _ Snape’s hands turned icy as his thumbs rubbed casual circles on the velvety chair.  _ It would have been pleasant having him around. I would have quite enjoyed waking up to Harry every day even if it were only platonically. After he learns about my past with Lily and James, the Dark Lord, he will drop these affections he’s harboring. I am simply a piece of intrigue at the moment. But I will cherish these moments. _

_ He might have forgiven me though, given his disgusting tendency towards leniency. At best, he could be a friend. A valued friend, of course, and one who would never know my own feelings on the matter.  _ A pang of pain crushed around Severus's heart as he realized pitifully that he would never even have Harry as a friend. He knew his job was to die and he knew his past was too reprehensible. _ Merlin, Severus. What has overcome you?  _

_ Harry is your student. The one you have fought to protect for years and are fighting again for now. There is only one way for my story to end. I will die, protecting that brat no doubt, and that is how that must be. Both Albus and the Dark Lord most likely agree on that. Merlin knows I’ve accepted it.  _ A small voice said,  _ Have you? _

His brow furrowed and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the chair.

_ I want to live. I don’t wish to leave all this behind.  _ **_Harry_ ** _ ,  _ the voice supplied.  _ I don’t want to leave Harry behind. I  _ **_want_ ** _ to live because of this insipid little- _

“Hey, Snape?”

The dark eyes flashed open. “Yes?”

“Nothing, just checking to make sure you hadn’t zonked out on me.” Snape’s eyebrow arched. “You were… nevermind. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Harry turned back to his work and Snape shook his head but as he did so felt the trail of something on his cheek. Bringing his hand up to his face, he was met with alarming wetness. He had been crying. The onyx eyes stared down at the twinkling glitter on his fingers as his breath quickened. Vulnerability terrified him and he could do nothing to slow the rapid thundering of his heart. Quickly, he wiped off his cheeks with the cuff of his sweater. 

“Harry…”

Green eyes met him and again Harry offered a reassuring smile. “It’s fine.” Harry licked his lips. “You’re fine.” Then immediately dropped his eyes and began fidgeting.

Severus’s breath hitched.  _ Comfort. Did he try to comfort me? _ Nudging the anger aside, Severus found a small child deep inside himself jumping with joy. 

Turning his head back to his work, he applied himself as much as he could but found that his thoughts continued to stray back to Harry and the soft words “You’re fine.” Even so, he finished his work just before noon. Severus shook his head to clear out the strange emotions gathering there and sent all the papers flying back through his room to his study. Harry barely reacted to the flutter of papers.

“I will meet you outside the gates in fifteen minutes. Do not make me wait. And if it behooves you, use that damn cloak. I do not care for us to be waylaid by a bunch of rambunctious Gryffindors wondering where you have gone.”

Harry nodded and mumbled something Severus didn’t catch as he walked towards his room. 

Once inside, Snape tugged the sweater off and promptly replaced it with a black long sleeve shirt. Dropping his pants next, he pulled on black silk boxers and a pair of well-loved black jeans. He stood looking into his wardrobe as he shoved his feet into his boots without taking the time to unlace them. Tumbling back, he sat on the edge of the bed, grumbling as he unlaced and relaced the black dragonhide boots. But his eyes never left his armoire. Severus was fixated on one item he had intended to wear but that he had since lost the courage to even touch.

He clucked his tongue. 

_ You are being ridiculous. It does not matter if Harry mentioned the jacket this morning or not, you were going to wear it. It is quite possibly the most muggle piece of clothing you own. _

Snatching the leather jacket from the coat hanger so hard the piece of wood flipped over and smacked him, Snape swore.

“Merlin’s fuck! Ow.” He rubbed his forehead before frowning and slipping the smooth leather jacket over his toned arms.

Severus Snape was not a large man by any means but years of wrestling ingredients, carrying cauldrons, and hauling children around the castle had toned him considerably. Besides that, Severus had always prided himself on staying in decent shape and was known, only by a select few, to engage in activity that challenged his physique. 

He looked over at himself in a mirror. It had been years since he’d worn this jacket, these jeans, but they still hugged him with familiar comfort. His thighs had grown slightly and his biceps pushed a little at the seams but the clothes fit nearly the same as they had years back. Severus played with the long decorative zipper on the left-side before casting a charm to loosen all the clothing slightly. 

Severus frowned at himself, looking right at his large, hooked nose. His hair brushed just below his collarbones in long, layered locks. Combing his hand through his hair, he made eye contact with himself and sighed. The hair fell in rumpled layers down the sides of his angular face.

_ If I did not spend so much time over the cauldron and chasing idiots through these hallways perhaps my hair would not always appear so...tousled. _

Still, he made no move towards his comb. The students would always mock his appearance regardless of how often he washed his hair. Given its ridiculous ability to knot, Severus refused to brush it until the end of a long day, anyway. He supposed not even Harry knew that fact. He cocked his head at his reflection, turning to look at himself full-on, and tugged up his pants slightly. 

The outfit made sense given they were going into Muggle London but it made him feel normal. Normal to Harry, normal to the world. He wasn’t sure which was more terrifying. The tips of his collarbones poked out from the shirt and his neck looked elegant and long between the collar of the jacket and the dark curtain of hair. He quite liked how he looked. Especially so, he took pride in his neck. It was unscarred, untouched by the brutality of his life and he hoped desperately to keep it that way. 

He sighed again with a heavy shrug as he abandoned his reflection. With very little time spent on dressing, Severus left the room content to see that Harry had already gone back to his room with his levitating books. 

As he left his rooms, he had not felt self-conscious, but by the time he ran into Draco, Severus was feeling not only exposed but embarrassed. Too many students had snickered at him and one Ravenclaw seventh year had fallen flat on her arse.

“Professor. I didn’t know-”

“Watch it, Draco. I am on my way out.”

“Like that?” Draco hissed. 

“Yes, like this. Do you have an issue with my attire?” Snape spat back. His lips curled into a sneer.

“No sir. I…” Draco swallowed and took several steps back with a nod. “Strictly speaking from a fashion sense…”

“As the Malfoys love to do.”

Draco scowled. “That is an outfit I’d wear.”

“Ah yes, such a compliment. Draco, I can assume you will still be joining us for dinner tonight?”

“Us?”

“Yes.”

A desperate sense of unease clung to Draco. His eyes roamed the jacket before bouncing back up to Snape’s black eyes. “I will be there, of course.”

“Very good.”

“You look very-”

“Draco," Snape warned.

“I will see you later, Professor.”

“Goodbye.”

_ Even Draco. Merlin, I should have been the one to use a concealment charm on myself. These students will not let me live this down. The great head of house prancing around in jeans and a leather jacket? Yes, what has the world come to. _

Snape stormed past several students whose mouths all promptly dropped open. He was not relieved of the staring until he reached the perimeter of Hogwarts. The gravel crunched underfoot as he crossed through the open gates. He slid his hands into his jacket pockets and settled into a spot, procuring his wand from his sleeve and casting a concealment charm on himself. The air was damp and crisp and smelled of late winter but held no bite. He closed his eyes briefly before settling in and watching the trees breathe with the breeze.

He had just reached the end of his patience when Harry trotted over, looking around confused.

“Fifteen minutes late!” Snape bellowed. Harry snapped towards him. “Dare I take  _ points _ , Potter?”

“Merlin, it’s always “Potter” when you’re pissed.”

The dark eyes widened and Harry took his cue.

“Right, sorry. I wasn’t followed if that’s what you’re thinking. I just couldn’t find my other boot.”

“It was under the-”

“Yeah, the couch. I know. Now. And I couldn’t find my watch.”

“It appears to be on your wrist.”

“Clever. Will you reveal yourself? People seem to think I’m bloody crazy enough as it is.”

“I thought you said you weren’t followed.”

“I wasn’t! I just...Come off it, you sod. Sorry I made you wait.”

Snape groaned at his attitude but cast a quick charm. He felt his cheeks turn pink as Harry’s green eyes grew wide. The pink lips so often in a pout parted and gentle puffs of air curled into the air as Harry huffed out his surprise.

“Merlin,” Harry breathed out. 

Harry quickly dropped his gaze to the ground, his cheeks rapidly reddened which did nothing to ease the burning lighting up Snape’s own features. 

“I uh see you have a leather jacket. A bloody nice one.” The green eyes darted back up to Snape who suddenly felt very naked beneath them. “Looks good on you. Uh, thanks. I mean, not that… For answering my question. About the...jacket. It looks...You look… I mean to say that-”

“Shut up, Harry.”

“Right.”

Snape lifted his arm. “Grab hold.”

Harry shuffled closer and audibly swallowed. The pads of his fingers pressed into Snape’s forearm. Severus couldn’t help but let out a shuddering breath at the contact. It was too erotic but too tentative for side-along apparition.

“Harry,” he said, his voice far huskier than he intended. “You will have to grip me more tightly.” And damn, if saying those words to Harry didn’t do something to him.

“Oh, yeah. Right.”

Harry squeezed more tightly and they left with a crack. When they landed, both their heads spun but this time with arousal. As they began a quick walk to Darcy's, Severus drew in a strained breath. Harry had not yet let go and Severus felt as if he were about to explode.

_ Merlin, Harry. Your obliviousness will be the death of me. _

"Harry."

"Yeah?"

"Let go."

"Right. Sorry."

Harry's hand slowly released as he shoved his hands in his own jean pockets. When he cast a tentative smile up at Severus, the professor quickened his pace, suddenly eager to distract himself with liquor and food. This day was not going to be a short one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Hope you guys liked this fluffy little chapter full of slice of life stuff. Next up is planning, hamburgers, and Draco at dinner. So stay tuned! As always, thanks so much for the support and let me know what you think of it! Also, I caught a bit of a cold so if this is strangely edited, don't hate me.


	8. The Great Potions Master

“Harry,” Severus hissed, leaning over the table between the booth benches. “Do _not_ order what I think you’re going to.”

“But it’s _free._ ”

Severus dramatically flopped back against the red vinyl seat with a loud groan. The balding head behind him turned slightly, making Harry grin.

“The cost is the rest of my afternoon’s peace.”

“All right, all right. I won’t.”

The hooked nose angled down at him as Snape bowed his head slightly, distrust narrowing his eyes into beady slits. The dark eyes scrutinized him a moment longer before they dropped back down to the laminated menu covered in red checkers and a cheeky looking coffee cup with a wide smile, legs, and a large thumbs up. He slapped the menu closed, blowing his hair back.

Harry couldn’t help but smile. Vernon and Petunia had never taken him to a diner and they never let him leave the house to, god forbid, enjoy himself. In fact, the only time he’d really been out to eat was during Hogsmeade trips. While that was enjoyable enough, it was nothing compared to this. The tiled floor was bright and cheery, colored by the occasional ketchup or syrup stain from an earlier customer. There was a jukebox over in the corner that Snape had already reluctantly lent Harry money for, with a roll of his eyes of course. And there was a bar with bright red stools to match the booths. Harry was in a strange, muggle heaven.

“Stop gawking. If you don’t, that woman will-”

A small woman approached the table with a cheerful grin. “Hello, dearies. Ready to order?”

Harry stifled a giggle as Snape’s eyes widened in annoyance.

_Bet he’s never been called that before._

“Fish and chips. Thank you.”

“To drink?”

Snape mumbled something about the largest beer she could bring him but Harry was focused on the three children using the booth behind him as a playground. A rogue hand grabbed a fistful of hair and Harry felt the whizz of magic flutter past him. The children stilled and a tired sigh could be heard from the parents.

“And you sweetie?”

“Oh, I’ll take the black and blue burger. Looks pretty fun.”

“Cheese?”

“Yes.”

The young woman laughed, revealing gray fillings and pink chewing gum that looked dry and over chewed.

“What kind?”

“Oh, uh, swiss.”

“Good choice.”

“Oh and,” Snape began mouthing the word “no” at Harry. “I’ll have the wide-eyed coffee too.”

“A brave one! Wonderful. It’ll all be out in a sec.”

Her thin hands grabbed at the menus roughly and she crept off to check on other tables.

Harry directed his attention back to Snape. “So you wanted to-”

“ _Harry_.” Snape’s dark eyes darted back towards the woman who Harry noticed was watching them. In a voice barely above a whisper, Snape said, “Ask me about my day.”

Snape casually set his elbow against the laminate table, balling his hand into a fist as he rested his cheek against it. His eyes lidded slightly as he yawned. 

“Oh, okay. Uh, did you sleep well? How’s your day going?” Harry was in uncharted waters.

“I slept perfectly fine. I had a cup of...tea before bed. Though,” Snape attempted to sneer but let it drop. “Some inept creature woke me with a storm of sorts. And now he has ordered a caffeinated nightmare.”

Harry scoffed and went about playing with a paper straw wrapper. The woman leaned over the countertop as she cleaned, inadvertently getting closer to their conversation. “Make it believable,” Snape ground out.

“Oh nice! Cool. I was thinking we could have steak for dinner tonight if that’s all right.” Harry felt strange forcing small talk with Snape. The sort of conversations they engaged in were often philosophical ones based around defense or potions, neither of which could be spoken around muggles. Especially not a maybe muggle that seemed intent on eavesdropping. The other sort of conversation he had with Snape involved spitting remarks and loud voices which Harry knew better than to have in public. Vernon had taught him that lesson all right.

“Perhaps a light fish meal would suit your stomach better.” Snape yawned again, blinking his eyes hard.

“You sure you slept okay?”

“Yes.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Okay then why are you yawning for a _third_ time?”

It was then that Harry realized the very tip of Snape’s large nose was red and he was sniffling every so often. It was incredibly quiet and as Harry pretended to look back at the waitress, he caught Severus sniffling. One of the delicate hands wound up to his throat and gently rubbed along his jaw before settling back on the table. Snape yawned again.

“I apologize. It must be the company.”

“Are you...Are you sick?”

Snape huffed in annoyance but let his eyes slide closed for a moment. “Continue.”

“You aren’t mad I ordered that coffee?”

“I am fuming.”

“Clearly.” The dark eyes opened and looked at Harry calmly. Harry thought he could get lost in them easily.

“I will answer three questions so long as they aren’t idiotic.”

“Why?” Snape’s eyes trailed over behind Harry’s shoulders to the woman cleaning the booth the family had vacated before they jerked back to Harry.

“I enjoy your company.”

“Fucking sod,” Harry mumbled.”

“What was that?”

“Do you like cod?”

“That best not be one of your questions.”

Harry laughed. It was an honest, open sound and by this point in their friendship, Harry had begun to admire the effect it had on Snape. Harry didn’t often laugh around his friends, certainly not since everything had begun happening in January, but when he had, they overlooked him or overshadowed him with something else. Besides that, he had never found that they _could_ make him laugh like this. He enjoyed watching the ivory cheeks color with a dusting of pink. 

“All right, how about this…” Harry thought for a moment, scrolling through a list of topics he knew he could not touch in public. “It’s a two-fer. What’s your favorite season and why?”

“Favorites? Honestly, I would have thought-”

“Just answer.”

Snape blushed and looked down. “I quite like winter. There is a certain peace during the night that only arrives with snow and the frigid temperatures. Besides, being near Hogwarts does include passive enjoyments of the festivities.” Snape’s eyes were staring at the trails of water rolling down his glass. “The lights are pleasant.”

 _Merlin, Snape likes Christmas! Everybody always said he hated it but that’s why he stays there to watch the students over the holidays. He bloody_ **_loves_ ** _it._ Harry was suddenly incredibly upset. _And he has to pretend to hate the bloody thing. That settles that then. Next Christmas I’ll spend with the git and decorate his damn dungeons with lights. He'll be so happy._

Harry nodded and said, “Yeah, I love winter. Christmas trees and hot chocolate are my favorite part. There’s something magical about the decorations on all the houses too. Magic.”

Snape looked up, his eyes glittering with years of memories of the large pine trees near Hogwarts and the Christmas tree erected in the Great Hall. “Indeed.”

“Next one…” Harry leaned back just as the waitress popped in and dropped his coffee in front of him. 

“There you are darling. One wide-eyed coffee.”

“Thank you.”

The woman did not move away until Harry cast an annoyed glance up at her and clucked his tongue. “I said thank you.”

She turned on her heel, looking put upon and clacked away.

“Very nice,” Snape drawled. “I do hope she doesn’t spit in our food.”

“They do that?”

“Is that question two?”

“No, no. Favorite place in the world?”

Snape’s eyebrows shot up and he yawned again, this time making Harry yawn too. Rolling his eyes, the younger wizard sipped on the coffee which was surprisingly sweet. _Probably to mask all the caffeine in it._ Snape pulled his head off his hand and leaned back against the booth. Besides Harry’s lap, two feet appeared and crossed at the ankle. Snape had crossed his hands over his lap and was staring at the light fixture hanging above their table.

“There is this spot, apparating distance from Hogwarts, that is dear to me. There is a forest, untouched by…” Snape furrowed his brow and nodded, Harry understood. _By all this magic. By people._ “Within the forest, there is a small cottage. It could be described as cozy.”

“But you wouldn’t describe it that way?”

“No. I would call it safe. This world doesn’t seem to touch it. There are deer and other forest creatures who walk by the cottage, easily coming and going as if they owned the land still. Tucked just into the side of the cottage is a great garden full of rare plants, difficult to breed, and a large lake neither as grand nor as dangerous as the one you are familiar with is only a short walk away.”

Snape licked his lips, hiding the soft smile there. “And there is a fair deal of rain and snow.”

“Sounds bloody gorgeous. Perfect for a snarky bastard like you.”

Snape made no reply.

Then Harry noticed something and it startled him. He had imagined the cottage just fine, but he had imagined both himself and Severus cozying up beside the fire inside. When he met Snape’s eyes, he knew that Severus could see something special there too. Harry continued staring at the man for a while, letting their conversation lapse into silence. 

_I get it. Safe must feel so good. Gods, that's how I felt going into your rooms for the first time. I actually fucking slept. But I guess you wouldn’t feel safe there either. It isn’t safe for you. The students hate you and the ones that don’t still talk to their parents about you. Dumbledore has a death wish for both of us. You know you could die at any time between those walls don’t you, Severus?_

_Merlin, when did you become Severus to me? When did I bloody care what happened to you?_ A soft voice supplied, _When you knew he didn’t hate you._

“Do you...do you hate me?” Harry asked Snape. 

Severus sat upright, placing his feet back on the ground as the food came between them. He politely thanked the waitress who huffed a no problem and stormed back to the kitchen. As she left, he cast a quiet “muffliato” and several other spells, keeping himself and Harry inside of a safe bubble. Harry wasn’t sure if it was the lack of answer or the now drained coffee, but he was buzzing as if hit with the spell himself. He cleared his throat which had really begun to itch.

Selecting a particularly good looking chip Snape dipped it into a sauce. Holding it over the plate he said, “No.” Harry’s jaw about hit the floor. Without eating his food yet, Snape said, “And yes, I am ill. I have a slight magic cold.”

“A magic cold?”

“Do you learn anything at that blasted school?”

“It’s me, remember?” This time Harry cleared this throat more strongly and began to cough. Snape set his chip back down. “Sorry…” He gasped. “Must’ve gotten… coffee…” He reached a hand out for his water and Snape clamped down on his wrist. 

“Don’t touch that.” 

“But…” Suddenly, Harry couldn’t breathe. He grabbed at Snape’s hand as it pulled away. “Snape…” The dark eyes in front of him flashed.

“Be still.” After seeing Harry’s eyes bulge in fear he said, “Trust me.”

Shaking Harry’s hand off, Severus reached inside his leather jacket. Glancing over towards where the waitress vanished off to, Severus calmly looked around Darcy’s finding no sign of trouble. Meanwhile, Harry was panicking. He did trust Severus but he hadn't had to prove it yet. In a situation where he now felt as if he were turning blue, Harry suddenly wished he could have proven it beforehand. Harry’s hand trembled where Snape had brushed it off until the warmth of Snape’s fingers intertwined with his. The dark eyes were unreadable but as Harry felt a cool stone pressed into his hands he understood. 

_A bezoar. Thank Merlin._ But as he moved to pull his hand away, Severus grasped him more tightly. _Oh, okay. That makes sense. In case someone is watching._

Harry pulled the smooth stone out of their hands and swallowed. Immediately, air flooded his lungs again but he resisted the urge to take large gasping breaths. If someone here wanted him dead he figured he shouldn’t alert them to the fact that they had obviously been unsuccessful. Then, a great swarm of butterflies exploded in his belly. He was holding Snape’s hand. Without much warning, Harry was then yanked upright and dragged out of the booth and out of Darcy’s.

“What’s-”

“Be quiet.”

Snape marched them around in a strange pattern until both of them reached a secluded park. Harry had never seen Snape look so sternly and that was saying something. As soon as they arrived at the park, the taller wizard pulled Harry into a tight embrace and disapparated them back to the gates of Hogwarts without even a warning. He did not speak another word until they were back in the safety of the dungeons. He didn’t let go either. Harry was sure he was glowing as red as that time he’d been burned in the sun from too much Quidditch. 

Practically tossing Harry into their now shared quarters, Snape followed with an aggressive groan. He collapsed into his black chair near the fire and glared at Harry for a moment. Following Snape’s lead, Harry also dropped into one of the chairs by the fire. Severus had his head in his hands and was fiercely rubbing at his temples. He let out a barking cough followed by a sniffle and a sigh. 

“You should not have ordered that.”

Harry burst out into laughter. Snape glared daggers despite the red hue to his face and the soft expression hugging his eyes. 

“I didn’t know it was going to kill me!” Harry reigned in his laughter but couldn’t help snickering as he watched Snape shake his head. 

“Everything tries to bloody kill you.”

“Yeah, except you.”

Snape stood and coughed again, wilting slightly as he did so. “The day is young.”

“Want me to make some milk and honey?”

The red-rimmed eyes shot over to Harry, a profound look of appreciation poorly obscured in their depths. “Will it come with another cyclone?”

“I’d rather it didn’t. Thought you were going to break my wand this morning. So what’s it? You want some?”

Snape nodded. With a weary smile, he said, “Yes. That would be nice.”

Harry set about making milk and honey, smiling to himself as he heated the milk on the stove. _He’s taken care of me long enough. Worked hard enough to give himself a magic cold, whatever the bloody hell that is. Bugger needs to relax. Merlin knows he’ll be wearing concealment charms and glamours all night with Draco. Least I can do is make him this. Probably the one bloody thing I’m good at is cooking._

He continued happily humming to himself as he cast several charms to keep everything warm. When he turned around, he saw Severus shuffling out the bedroom in black slippers, black pajama pants with the emblem for Slytherin on them, the same dark shirt he’d been wearing, and a massive blanket draped around his shoulders. Severus continued shuffling over to Harry. When he was only a foot or so away, he held out his left hand to take the cup, clutching the dark blanket draped around his shoulders in his right hand. 

_He looks...cute._

Before Harry could comment Snape said, “Albus gave me the pants.” _As if that makes it all right._ Harry smirked to himself but hid the glow blossoming inside his heart. _Bugger doesn’t need to know he’s cute._

Harry held out the cup and looked down to make sure Snape had it but as he did so, caught a glimpse of the dark mark. In all his time living with Snape, Harry had yet to see any trace of it. Now, he was staring at the tail of the snake. A desperate fear curled in his stomach and when he raised his eyes, there was such sadness and disappointment painted across the paler than normal face.

When Snape spoke his voice was hoarse and unable to conceal the terrible fear. “Please…” Harry wasn’t even sure what the man was asking. A second word followed and the low voice nearly moaned it out. “Don’t.”

Harry felt terrible. Never once did he consider how the mark impacted Severus. He never thought about how much pain it caused him, how the noble man would always have a reminder of some terrible decision. Harry felt a terrible disappointment in himself explode in his belly. _I never thought about how much it hurts him. Just about how much it scares me. Fucking pathetic. I’m pathetic! He’s hurting._ Without thinking much, he reached out and tugged the sleeve over the mark and smiled.

Quietly he said, “I’d never.” Not certain what he just promised, Harry would forever hold the way Snape’s face melted into glassy eyes and softness close to his heart.

Heading over to his chair he said, “We still have to talk about your great plan.”

Severus coughed and trailed behind him, dragging his blanket across like a king’s cape. He dropped onto the couch and stretched his long legs out. After he sipped the warm milk and honey he nodded.

“Yes, quite.” He looked over at Harry. “I enlisted the help of your house-elf friend.”

“Dobby?”

“Yes. He did belong to Lucius at one point if you retained that information. I was correct in assuming he had some useful skills.”

“Dobby?”

“ _Yes._ ”

“Sorry just hard to imagine him being very skilled.”

Snape frowned and clutched both hands around the warm cup. “He is the second most talented house-elf I know. My own, of course, being the most talented.” Harry quirked his lips. _Of course, he stands up for house-elves. And_ **_of bloody course_ ** _he has the smartest one._

“So what’s Dobby doing?”

“He is following the Weasley boy and the Granger girl. I am aware they are under the Imperius at Albus’s hand but I am unsure to what extent his control is over the Gryffindors nor am I sure of his intent. I’ve one week to ascertain _that_ slippery piece of information. I’ve also sent him to watch on Albus, indirectly of course as I fear Albus would figure out if one of his house-elves were watching him.”

“You’re following my friends? Wait, a week?” Snape looked at him out of the side of his eye.

“I’d hardly leap to their defense. Not the way you leap to conclusions, at least.” He began coughing and shakily brought the warm liquid up to his lips. He melted further into the couch and closed his eyes.

“All right. So you’re tracing Ron and Hermione, probably every spell they use. How’s that going to help them? And why not just follow Dumbledore? I don’t really see how any of this is going to help. It’ll give us information but… This is your great plan?”

“You are asking too many questions,” Snape growled. His forehead wrinkled up tightly and the cup came to rest in his lap. Harry watched him fight off a shiver and pull the blanket around himself more tightly.

“Sorry.”

“You are leaving here in one week to resume your normal day to day activities. Causing trouble, agitating your professors, carrying your abnormally large head around, and refusing to absorb information, to start.” Harry stayed quiet this time. “Dobby will ensure I am able to have eyes on your rascal friends. I am fairly certain I am able to concoct a potion to help them, but it will take time.

“While you were _unconscious_ I managed to start a rudimentary potion to enhance willpower enough to escape the clutches of the Imperius. It should also work to prevent Albus from cursing them again. I had begun working on the potion years back but was forbidden from continuing. As unforgivable as it is, it seems that very few wish it to be exterminated. 

“Unfortunately,” Snape continued, interrupting himself by sipping more of the honey-sweet liquid. “It will take time for me to perfect. Judging the correct amount of willpower is difficult enough, more so when Gryffindor teenagers are involved.”

“Don’t want anyone running off to start a rebellion you mean?”

“Precisely.”

“Well, you make it sound easy.”

“It is not, I assure you.” Severus shuddered as he sighed. The dark eyes fixed on a point on the ceiling before he continued. “This will not be easy for you. Harry, you will be leaving here in one week and I will have to insist you spend time around Hermione and Ron. Albus will be suspicious if you do not. I do not see you needing to spend much time with them, but enough. And it must seem as though you both despise me and are eager to take me down. I am a Death Eater, after all. You must show that you hate me and the Slytherins. You will need to pretend, Harry.”

Harry stilled. “You’re asking if I have what it takes.”

Severus shook his head. “No. Of course, you do. I am asking if you are _willing_.”

“I… Yes. I’m willing.”

“Willing to delude your friends?”

“Yes.”

“Willing to lie?”

“Yes.”

“Willing to hurt me if it came to it?”

Harry paused. “Snape…”

“Are you willing?”

“Fine. Yes.”

The professor looked at him a moment before mumbling, “Brave and cunning. How did the hat decide?”

“I asked for Gryffindor.” The dark eyes widened and Harry shrugged. “I think it wanted to put me in Slytherin.”

“Thank Merlin it did not.”

“No kidding. Speaking of snakes, Draco?”

Snape nodded. “Yes. You will need the help of the Slytherin, at the very least their respect.”

“I have to get along with Draco!”

“Yes, you brat.” 

The word once spat at him now came out affectionately. It stopped Harry in his tracks before he could continue arguing. He slumped back in his chair and held his hands up.

“Explain.”

“You are houseless at the moment. Gryffindor will tear you to shreds given the opportunity. Do you think Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff will come to your aid? Have they ever so much as clapped for you? Do they even _know_ you, your struggles? Slytherin does and Slytherin has the power to fight against Gryffindor. Merlin forbid, but if I cannot brew this potion, exactly what do you think will happen?”

_Oh gods, he’s prepping me for a resorting._

“Yes, Harry. You need to stay safe and I cannot keep you safe in that damn tower. The Slytherins must become your allies.”

Surprising himself he said, “Draco isn’t going to like that.”

“Draco follows power. You have that in droves.”

“Is that a compliment?”

Snape angrily drank his milk and honey, insistent on giving no answer other than, “Draco is also looking for safety. I think the two of you can come to some agreement.”

“Draco… isn’t he just a wannabe-”

“Watch. Your. Tongue.”

“I meant that I thought he wanted to be like Lucius.”

Snape set the mug down and sat cross-legged on the couch, still swaddled in the blanket in a position that to Harry, seemed very un-Snape-like.

“Lucius is mad, Harry. Draco is terrified of him, rightfully so. He would kill his family if it appeased the Dark Lord.”

“I didn’t think…” He meant to finish the sentence but it just trailed off. _No,_ he thought. _I didn’t think._

“Quite.” Severus let out a terrible cough before inhaling through a stuffy nose. “I apologize.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Okay, Dobby is tracing my friends and getting us information. I’m playing pretend and buddying up with Draco. And you’re making a potion.” Snape wearily nodded. “Well, then it looks like you have a free afternoon.” The angry mouth opened to retort but Harry said, “Just go take a nap, okay? I’ll take stock of the potions and brew anything that needs to be replenished. I’ll wake you up in an hour before dinner okay? No cyclone either.”

Instead of arguing, Severus stood up abruptly and shuffled towards his room with a sniffle and a wave of his hand easily acquiescing. As Harry watched him go he thought, _Draco is going to fucking hate this._

**********************************

“This is bloody stupid! Was this Potter’s idea?”

Harry shot Snape a look that said, _I told you he’d hate it._

Draco shouted incoherently before Snape bringing his fists down on the table rattled not only the dinner plates but Draco’s nerves. His frosty eyes jumped over to Harry, who held their gaze confidently, before shifting back to the plate of the nearly finished pie. Evidently, cherry pie was a sort of favorite among the Malfoys. Harry watched him push the last few pieces delicately around the plate mumbling, “Thought you could sweeten me up first. Hmph. Prick.”

Snape brought his wine to his lips, muttering back with equal venom, “Is it working?”

Draco blanched. 

“Come on, Draco. I’m not asking to be friends. Just to not...attack me all the time in front of the Slytherins, okay?”

The pale boy’s mouth dropped open as he audibly gasped. “Bloody rich. You say that as if it were easy! Not insulting you, Potter, would be like-”

“Mr. Malfoy, I do not need to hear yet another of your colorful analogies.” 

Severus casually swallowed the last of his wine and set it down. Harry caught the glint of a potion bottle disappearing into Snape’s robes and knew he must have poured some anti-headache potion in there. The dark eyes gently rested on Harry a moment before turning back to Draco.

“Quite frankly, I am surprised Mr. Potter has gathered up more manners than a Malfoy.”

Draco’s light eyes flashed. Harry took the opportunity to stick out his hand and say, “Try it again? Maybe you were right. I _do_ have a questionable choice of friends. And I could really use some proper company.”

A hot, white hand landed in his and suddenly Harry was looking into the frosted eyes of a monster. Draco looked at him, white-hot rage in his eyes for a moment as he shook Harry’s hand. Harry thought if he let go he might get punched but the anger in Draco’s eyes quickly vanished as he inelegantly dropped into the dining chair. Snape shot him a warning glance as Draco threw one leg over the arm of the chair and sat sideways.

“Draco…”

“Come off it, Snape. If _he’s_ allowed to stay here, I can at least bloody sit how I’d like. More pie?”

Snape muttered something as he snapped his fingers, but all Harry caught was “insufferable”. He caught Draco’s eye and they both shrugged. 

“So then what’s the plan?”

“Merlin,” Snape groaned. “You two have no concept of secrecy.” He waved the dark wood of his wand around, casting several spells as he went. Both Draco and Harry shuddered as one spell tickled down their spines.

Snape cast a pleading look over to Harry he began, “Well, Dumblefuck-”

“Harry, _please._ ”

Before apologizing to Snape, Harry met Draco’s wicked grin with one of his own. “Sorry. Dumbledore has Ron and Hermione under the Imperius.”

The chair creaked as Draco immediately sat upright. He cast a worried glance to Severus. “What?” Snape nodded. “Potter, how did you find _that_ out.”

“Snape did. But he found out after they tried to hand me over to the Dark Lord. Pretty much died that time.”

Draco turned his attention to Snape. “Why didn’t I know about this? I ought to have at least heard that his life was being threatened.”

“Aw, Draco. You care.” 

“I bloody do, you idiot. You’re my rival.”

Harry paused. It was honestly one of the most endearing things anyone had ever said to him. _Maybe there’s hope for him yet._

Snape said, “You did not know because I did not want you to know.”

“Well, the bratty lions sure kept a lid on things for once.”

“Yes,” Snape said. “They most certainly have.”

The blonde eyebrows furrowed as Draco turned back to Harry. His hands were in fists next to a new slice of pie placed on the table. There was a dangerous red flush creeping up from his neck and the veins alongside his temples pushed out. Harry had never seen Draco so angry.

“Go on,” Draco commanded.

“Obviously I have to go back there. At least to pretend things are normal because of Dumbledore, right?”

“Obviously.”

“But if something goes wrong…”

Draco’s face relaxed. “You need an ally.”

“Pretty much.”

Snape filled the silence stretching between the boys. “I am in the process of creating a potion to counter the Imperius. Draco, I will insist you take it due to your...proximity to the Dark Lord.”

Draco shot a nervous glance at Harry before turning back to Snape. The professor shook his head slightly which did nothing to close the widened eyes or the nervous nibbling of his lips. Draco turned to Harry with fear in his features.

“My father…”

“Is a lunatic?” Draco’s face fell before he exploded into laughter.

“Yeah, about right. Okay, Potter. Not so stupid as I thought.” 

Fork and knife in hand, Draco went about eating his next slice of cherry pie as Snape began rattling on about the potion, the plan, and how necessary it was that most of Slytherin agreed to respect Harry. Unsurprisingly, Draco was an arse the entire time but Harry found himself in better spirits. Draco included him in the jokes, directed his attention to him when he spoke, and even poked fun at Severus. To Harry’s great surprise, he was _enjoying_ this dinner.

It wasn’t until Severus pushed away from the table that Harry thought to glance down at his watch. _Ten at night! Bloody hell, I got so distracted that I didn’t even notice the time. Now_ **_that_ ** _is terrifying. Enjoying Draco’s company._ Harry chuckled to himself as he walked Draco to the door. _Never thought I’d be in this position._

“Uh, thanks for stopping by. Better, thanks for not killing me.”

Instead of a laugh, Draco shot his hand out to grab Harry’s wrist.

“You listen to me, Harry Potter.” Harry’s mind raced. Was this all a farce? Was Draco going to kill him right now under Snape’s watchful eye? Harry could not have guessed what Draco said next. “There are _no_ Death Eaters in Slytherin. None of us want this. They...We are all scared. The Dark Lord… he’s _insane_ , Harry. I know you know but…” 

Draco's eyes were on his and for the first time, Harry felt that he understood the boy standing in front of him. He was scared, of course, but had to wear a mask.

“I am doing this for them. You protect them, we’ll protect you. Got it?”

“Got it, Draco.”

“I…” He released Harry’s wrist and huffed as he ran a hand through his hair. His normal air of arrogance returned. “Don’t expect me to treat you differently around the Gryffindors. This is strictly a behind the doors deal.”

Without waiting for Harry’s reply, Draco left the room.

 _Well that was a weird_ _night,_ Harry thought as he walked back through the open room towards the kitchen. He'd eaten one too many of the chocolates Snape kept on hand for him and he was parched. He smacked his dry tongue against the roof of his mouth. Passing by Severus currently laid out on the couch groaning and sniffling to himself, Harry entered the kitchen. _I can't believe Draco didn't put up more of a fight. Maybe Severus was right, maybe he just wants help after all. Of everyone, he gets what it's like to not really have a choice in anything. Gods, he's probably had as rough a life as me. Can't imagine Lucius as a dad._

Harry heard Snape moaning something from the couch. "What's that?"

Snape practically growled. One pale hand stretched over the couch and beckoned Harry over. Harry obediently followed as he drank his water.

"Are you feeling well?"

"From the other night? Yeah. I'm doing better. I'll take dreamless sleep again tonight if you don't mind."

The pale arm dropped over Snape's belly while his other arm hung off the couch. The sight was pathetic.

"Then please, do not wake me in the morning." 

"Okay," Harry said. He started to leave, but before he did, placed a gentle hand on Snape's chest. The dark eyes didn't open but Harry watched a slight pink color Severus's cheeks. "You should probably sleep in your bed though. Feel better."

Harry removed his hand and smiled. His palm tingled and his heart sang. His door clicked shut behind him and he yawned terribly wide at the sight of his bed. Drinking down the potion, Harry slipped between his soft sheets. Looking up like he did every night, Harry fell asleep watching the stars and moonlight illuminate the lion on his ceiling. All was right in Harry's world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All righty! Let me know how you feel about this one. The next few chapters get a little painful, so hope you enjoyed sniffling Severus and the fluff :)


	9. Don't Leave Me Here

Before Harry knew it, he was back in his old routine, and angry about it. He and Severus had made no progress on determining who tried to poison Harry at the diner nor had they figured anything out about the potion Snape was trying to brew. They were no closer to a solution and worse, Harry knew that now he couldn't hover around Severus all day. It felt as though his time spent with Severus had evaporated into a cloud of unfinished business. Harry didn’t appreciate that as the end of their unadulterated time drew near. He had even stayed up late the night before he was set to resume his coursework just so he could spend a moment longer with Snape. In one way or another, the two were always in each other's company. They casually brewed and tinkered with potions, with Severus passing on tips and tricks and Harry eagerly gobbling it all up. They had worked late into many nights on the still-unnamed potion which demanded their attention. Harry wished he could spend the rest of time quietly brewing near Snape. When they weren’t brewing, they read, discussed the future of the wizarding world, and played chess. Harry was rubbish at it but sitting across the checkered marble board from a serious but relaxed looking Severus warmed Harry’s heart.

It bothered Harry that this would not be his full-time life any longer. When Harry returned to classes he was met with profuse apologies from his friends and teary hugs. McGonagall kept the trio split apart and hovered around Harry as inconspicuously as possible but Harry had noticed. Severus had entertained her one night for a private dinner so Harry didn’t think too much of her actions. In fact, he appreciated the separation from the sorrowful, gushing Ron and Hermione. He had accepted their apology as instructed, finally listening and learning from Snape and his grand plan. Harry would need to keep them close to create an illusion of friendship. While most of the time his friends seemed normal, there were moments where they scared him. Hermione asked questions with a quill just out of sight, frantically scribbling, and Ron cared too much about potions for Harry’s comfort. 

But their pain was honest. Severus thought Dumbledore had modified the Imperius to allow room for guilt and sorrow since, without it, they would appear too cold and distant. Harry bit his cheeks every time he was reminded of that. It didn’t make him too happy having to let his friends off the hook so easily in the public eye but with Draco on his side constantly berating the other Gryffindors, Harry wasn’t feeling too sour about his run-in with death. Since the incident, he could, at the very least, be noticed missing from time to time without too much fuss. He could sleep soundly knowing Severus was nearby, ready and willing to protect him. 

That said, Harry always waited for the cover of night and the sound of snoring Gryffindors before slipping out. Causing any sort of fuss would provoke further trouble. Most nights, he would be down by nine or ten and share chocolates and conversation with Severus. There were times, more than he would have liked in the three weeks since resuming his schedule, where Harry entered the quarters later than normal only to find a quiet place. Normally when he stopped by so late in the evening, Snape had retired for the evening, extinguishing the fireplace but it seemed that he was staying up later, sat beside the fire with bourbon in hand. In the case of the former, a small note would be pinned to Harry’s chair often reading something snarky that tingled in Harry’s chest. Tonight though, when Harry walked in, the fireplace roared and Snape was nowhere to be found.

“Snape?” 

Harry’s voice echoed through the empty rooms. Setting his invisibility cloak on a shelf near the entrance along with a muggle watch, Harry loosened the tie of his uniform. He had stayed awake with Hermione and Ron as he feigned studying, waiting for the moment the two decided to go to bed. Since visiting Snape, Harry found that he had become more efficient with his work. He supposed Snape’s nature had begun rubbing off on him.

 _Bugger is off hiding somewhere._ But Harry couldn’t shake that in the months of coming into these rooms, Severus had never once left Harry to question where he was residing. _Always appreciated that. But he is a spy so I guess he can’t just go around leaving notes all the time. Hm._

Calling out again, Harry looked around the kitchen and sitting room. Seeing no sign of his professor, he quickly went to go change into something more comfortable. He changed into a pair of dark fleece pajama bottoms and a simple sweater since the bite of the late winter, early spring months seemed significantly worse in the dungeons. Harry then moved on, checking Snape’s room with his wand drawn.

Rapping on the door and getting no response, he pressed the door open. “Lumos.” The tip of his wand illuminated the beautiful room in a pale blue light. A large, four-poster bed sat tucked underneath a massive enchanted window that peered out over the large lake at Hogwarts. Snow covered the edges of the lake frozen over by the frigid temperatures. He noticed a small mirror this time, one that had not been there the last time he was in this room nearly a month back. Set on the floor, the mirror was black around the edges with gorgeous details carved into the wood.

In the center of the mirror was a small little cottage. It was comfortably nestled between a forest of large pines trees on every side. A well-maintained garden to the left of the cottage was cut out from the burly beard of nature. Not only that, but it was untouched by the thick carpet of snow coating the cottage and its grounds. _Charmed,_ Harry thought as he looked at the rare plants. Something skipped in his heart as he looked at the little yellow light by the door. It radiated peace and hospitality as it shone through the delicate flurry. Harry smiled. _Must be the place Severus was talking about it. Merlin, it’s really something._

Shaking his head, Harry turned to examine the rest of the room. The floor of Snape’s bedroom was half-covered by a white throw rug. Glancing over the plain dresser and dark chair angled towards the fireplace where no fire burned, Harry's heart caught in his throat. Even though he was alone, he could feel a furious blush coloring his cheeks. He turned his eyes away and caught sight of a door on the far side of the room. _Bloody hell,_ **_another_ ** _thing I didn’t see when I was here. Bet the git charmed it so I couldn’t see._ Approaching it cautiously, he pushed it open to reveal Snape’s study.

The bindings of gorgeous books lined the shelves and a coffee cup sat on the sturdy desk. Strewn all about the top were various books on all sorts of subjects. Running a finger over the pages, he thought he felt something buzzing inside the books. It reminded him of the warmth humming in his belly the first time he’d seen Snape smile. Shaking it off and taking a moment to explore, Harry looked around the room with awe dancing in his eyes. 

“Bloody gorgeous, Severus.”

The faint scent of incense and potions hung in the air, captivating the young man even more. This felt like Snape. Dark and brooding but warm and inviting, the heat seemed to hug Harry closer. Before he knew what he was doing, he had sat down in the chair and was surveying the room from Snape’s perspective. The gentle buzzing running all over his skin. Closing his eyes, Harry gave into the wonderful feeling of wholeness as he relaxed into the chair. He could practically hear Snape's magic crackling in the air 

Jumping out of the chair suddenly, Harry ran from the room.

_Bloody hell. Snape could have walked right in on me sitting in his hidden study. Well, not hidden that well but I don’t think he’d want me rummaging through his quarters. Especially since he hasn’t shown me this room yet. Right, finding him quickly, then._

Harry made quick work of both the bathroom and the attached lab, only sticking his head in enough to clearly see that Snape was not hiding in the shadows. Unsure of what to do, Harry returned to the sitting room with a cup of chamomile tea. Harry couldn’t shake that something felt wrong. He sat in the chair and waved his hand in the direction of the fire. He’d been learning how to perform wandless magic from Snape and, as Snape himself had said, found it not only easy but very convenient. Regardless of the warm fire, the decadent tea, and the scent of Severus all around him, Harry could not seem to relax into the chair.

 _It’s after eleven. Almost midnight, really, and he’s not here. No note. No nothing. Where’s he gone off too?_ Banishing his cup to the kitchen, he snapped his fingers.

Dobby popped up with a large grin. “Harry Potter, sir!”

“Hey, Dobby. Do you happen to know where Professor Snape is?”

The large blue eyes filled with tears. “Dobby does not know, sir. He is not in the castle.”

“All right, Dobby. Thanks. Just wondering.”

“Does Harry Potter need anything else?”

Harry smiled. “Got anything sweet from the kitchen?”

Dobby disappeared with a loud crack, coming back moments later with an armful of candies and cookies. Harry gratefully took them and sent the little house-elf off with a pat and a smile. 

Before long, Harry was restless. He was pacing back and forth like a caged animal until a sharp stab of pain in his head brought him to his knees.

“Dammit!” Harry cried. 

The pain shot through him again and again until Harry was crying and sweating on the floor. His jaw ached from the tension as he grit his teeth. Through the pain, Harry crawled to the couch. Immediately curling into the fetal position, Harry clutched at his head and moaned. The agony turned his insides into knots and tears ran down his face. Remembering himself and his position, he forcibly occluded, erecting large walls and fake memories. The tendrils of Voldemort poking at Harry’s mind recoiled but the pain didn’t stop. The vision beginning to bud didn’t go away. Instead of the pain easing, it intensified until Harry was in Voldemort’s shoes experiencing the sights before him as if they were his own.

Harry was staring at a dark mass on the floor. It seemed to move slightly, a sort of sway from side to side that reminded Harry of a mother rocking her child. From the dark mass, Harry could not make anything out besides what seemed to be long, black hair. There were several Death Eaters surrounding it in an ominous circle. Harry easily identified Lucius Malfoy as the man with a decorative cane and long blonde hair covering the front of his robes. _Honestly, why even wear the mask when it’s so obvious who is who._ All of the Death Eaters’ faces were turned down to look at the mass on the floor that, now that Harry looked closer, was breathing and writhing in pain. A soft mewl of anguish fled from the mass and the group surrounding it laughed. The dark fabric of the robes rose and fell quickly. No matter how much he wished to get closer, it was only that. A wish. Voldemort was not moving any nearer to this mass. Harry growled to himself, sure that he could make out knotted hair in that mess of black. 

“Move!” Voldemort bellowed. 

And the body slowly began to rise. Still hidden in the shadows of whatever dirty, dank place they were in, the body’s identity remained unknown to Harry. It wasn’t until Bellatrix began cackling, it wasn’t until she cast some wicked spell that Harry knew who it was.

A moment passed after the light from the curse illuminated the body. Harry’s stomach sank and he was certain if this wasn’t a vision, he’d be vomiting. Pale hands clutched at the stone floor slick with blood. The blunt nails had been broken and were a wreck of splintering pieces and exposed nail bed. Harry knew those hands, had seen them chop up volatile ingredients, heal his worst injuries. They had held out coffee, chocolates, and fantastical stories to him. They had trembled the first time he’d paid attention to them and now, they were desperately clawing at the ground. Tendons popped out, shadows formed in the hands, and Harry could see, though only for a moment, that blood was trickling down the left arm like a horrid rain.

And then, Voldemort confirmed Harry's terrible suspicions. "Severus, I've given you a command. Stand up!"

Quickly, he took in the rest of the scene. Long strands of hair covered the bowed head. Severus was soaked through as if he’d been dropped in a lake. Small crystals of ice froze the bottom of his robes. The sound of his boots slipping in his own blood upset Harry. Severus was trying and failing, to reclaim his dignity. When the light from the curse faded, Harry heard the body give a wracking cough. Severus had made it to all fours but was not getting any further.

Harry looked on in horror as he delivered three strong kicks to Snape’s stomach, the last one hitting something sensitive as Snape heaved and wretched blood. He promptly collapsed to his side and lay unmoving. Harry wanted to cry. He could distantly feel the pain of his forehead throbbing, pulling him away from the scene as it always had, but something stirred in his spirit that kept him watching. Severus Snape, who was currently lying on his side with bloody and wet hair plastered to his face, was dying. And Harry couldn’t stop it.

Looking through Voldemort’s eyes, Harry watched as Snape slowly opened his eyes. Dark circles either from solid hits, overall agony, or a sleepless night colored the pale eyes. His firm jaw was set. The broken nose, clearly done earlier in the night as the blood here had hardened and cracked, seemed to spite Voldemort. There was no fear evident in the strong features and it spiked rage inside Voldemort. Harry could feel the rage thrum through the evil wizard like blood. The elegant wand tip pointed down at Severus whose face was paler than normal and hidden in shadows of dirt and blood. Harry couldn't help but admire the strength of Severus in that moment. He would not disclose his fear to Voldemort.

“I do not know where the Potter brat goes during the summer, my Lord.”

“Lies!” 

“If I did, you would have had him by now. I assure you.”

Something wicked burst from the tip of the wand. The dark eyes shut as Snape finally began screaming. His scar bloomed with Voldemort's joy. The rest of the Death Eaters descended on him as Severus howled in agony. Harry was yanked back to his body with a sick sense of glee still at the forefront of his mind. _He’s going to die right there at Voldemort’s feet. I’ve got to do something. Maybe I can get in there… I don’t even know where there is. I’ll… I’ll have Dobby and Kreacher go find him._ A soft thought said, _And get them killed?_

The sickening image of Severus covered in blood and screaming from torture filled Harry’s mind. In those eyes, Voldemort saw rage and the spiteful actions of a man who would never give himself over to the terror of his Lord. But Harry saw something different. He saw the pain of never returning to that cottage. The pain of failing to protect Harry. There was something there too, barely recognizable and so well-hid he nearly missed it. The pain of love lost. Something exploded in Harry’s chest as he looked at those dark eyes full of that unbearable anguish.

Full of pain himself, instead of standing and going about some wild rescue, Harry drifted into a state of fitful sleep as his body worked to recover itself from the terrible invasion of Voldemort. He tried to wake himself up several times but eventually succumbed to the terrible mistress, sleep.

As the hour drew close to three a.m, Harry was startled awake by a loud crash. Adjusting to the dim light of the waning fire, Harry flicked his free hand towards the fireplace as he groped around the couch for his wand. Wincing as light filled the room, he snatched up his wand and jumped to his feet. Hoping it was Severus but knowing it could have bloody well been anyone in that room of Death Eaters, Harry spun towards the door. From his position, he couldn’t see a thing. Quickly rounding the chair and getting a clear look at the entrance, Harry hissed a quick, “fuck” as he took in the sight.

There was Severus, face first in the carpet, blood already staining the soft white rug beneath him. His mask was still spinning several feet away from where he had fallen. His wand had rolled away from his body and knocked into Harry’s feet. First stooping to pick up and pocket the wand, Harry then ran to Snape’s side. The man was hardly breathing and as Harry kneeled, he winced at the squelching sound of blood already filling the carpet. _How the hell did he get here? Apparated back, walked this far from the gates, like this? Bloody hell, Severus._ Harry rolled him over, crimson coating his hands. 

“Snape… _Snape!_ ”

The dark eyes rolled beneath his eyelids a moment before finally opening. Bouncing between two targets, Snape’s brow furrowed. 

“I…” The voice coming from his throat was hoarse and broken but he insisted on continuing. “I failed. You _cannot_ go…” Snape fought for consciousness. As Harry held him, a pale hand snaked up to hold onto Harry’s wrist. “...back. He...Albus told him. Privet Drive.” Snape screamed wildly before settling back down with an empty moan. “The waitress… Albus has friends.”

“Merlin, Snape what happened?”

Snape groaned and let his head fall into Harry’s lap. Looking down at his hands and the sticky blood thoroughly coating them, Harry swore. Snape went limp, head lolling back into Harry’s arms as Harry pulled him close to his chest. 

“Accio blood replenishing potion!” A small little bottle filled with dark red contents flew from the other room. As soon as Snape had swallowed, his eyes were open again.

“Snape, what can I do? What happened? Please, tell me how to fix this.”

Snape shook his head. “You aren’t skilled enough.” He broke into a cough. Crimson blood flew in every direction. A measly whimper worked its way out of his throat. The eyes closed as he grit his teeth. A terrible shivered worked its way down his spine. Harry held him more tightly, calling for and tipping several more potions down the man’s throat.

When he spoke again desperation tinged his voice. “Harry, I… I saw. Experienced, Harry. Harry.” The voice was sad, heartbroken. 

“Saw what? I don’t understand. Snape-”

“Severus.”

“Severus, what did you see?” The name Harry so wished to use suddenly felt dirty and dangerous. A gift he would never be allowed to appreciate. Terrible thoughts whizzed through his head as he questioned whether this would be the only time he’d be able to speak the wizard’s name.

“The cauldron. I… I wish…” Harry stopped breathing. _Merlin. That’s right. He experienced my fantasy. He experienced my desire for him to love me. Bloody embarrassed myself on that. Wait...wait. He wishes?_ Harry continued to hold his breath. There was a sharp fire in those eyes, rapidly fading but still present. Snape had something yet to say.

“I wish...I could.” The eyes closed softly and Severus said, “I _would_ , Harry.” before going completely limp and falling again into an unconscious state. 

"Dammit, Severus. Dammit!" 

_He would. He **would.**_

With some effort, Harry managed to lighten Severus. Scooping the older wizard into his arms, Harry brought him to the couch where he began running the few diagnostic spells he knew. Unbuttoning the robes carefully, knowing Snape would wake up just to attack him if he cut them off, Harry quietly undressed Snape’s torso. He took care to gently pull the pieces of fabric from the wounds and pour more potions down the man’s throat every so often. His fingers reverently worked on peeling back the layers, barely ghosting across the pale skin hidden there. Harry’s heart clenched as he took in Snape’s nearly naked body. He had left only the black silk boxers on and, under other circumstances, would have appreciated the sight of a naked Severus Snape in front of him. As it was, Harry was terribly sad and doing his best to fight through the tears and heal this man.

Taking in the sight of gashes and bruises erupting like fireworks across Snape’s body, Harry lightly laid a hand atop the chest. The strong but fluttery beating of the heart stirred something inside the young wizard and without thinking, he placed his ear onto Snape’s chest. A pleasant warmth ran through his limbs as he listened. Pulling his head away, he fed Snape another blood replenishing potion as he struggled to close the wounds lining his torso. After nearly an hour, Harry had managed to seal the three large wounds that sliced across his torso and the one wound in Snape’s leg that positively hummed with magic. Clearly, someone had jabbed a wand there and left an ugly, open hole full of damaging magic behind it. 

Panting, exhausted, and sweating, Harry rubbed the inside of his shirt across his forehead as he relaxed for a moment. Severus was barely stable, but stable nonetheless. Harry took a moment to catch his breath before continuing forward. After all, he was no skilled healer and was working only with basic spells. For the rest of the wounds, he would need not only more skill but more spells. He placed a hand back on the nude chest. The hair beneath his hand was soft and curly and Harry wanted nothing more than to curl up and fall asleep right here. He shook his head firmly and pushed all those thoughts away.

_Not bloody time to be crushing on him, Harry. Merlin, you’ll get him killed that way. “Distracted again, Potter?” Gods, I can just hear him snapping at me. I need my full concentration. Half these spells used against him left magical residue and if I mess that up, I really will kill him._

Harry called for several books from the other room, titles that he had only skimmed over a few hours back. He called for a few obscure potions and salves as well and set to work diagnosing what was left. Severus had already spiked a nasty fever and Harry was worried. Another half-hour in and Harry was covered in various salves and the red touch of Snape’s blood. The books were floating around him as he furiously worked to keep Snape in that barely stable condition. So focused on removing the poison he’d missed floating around in Snape’s system he didn’t notice Snape was awake until the man spoke. 

“Harry?”

The voice crackled in the night. 

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Do not inform Albus of my return.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Poppy is not to be called.”

“Got it.”

A pale hand shot out and grabbed his collar as the dark eyes snapped open. “Promise me you will not inform him.”

“I promise.” 

With a groan as magic flowed out of Harry’s wand, Snape looked up at the young wizard. “I’m sorry, Harry. I do wish… I...” That was all he was able to manage. 

With that, Severus dropped his hand, falling unconscious again. Gritting his teeth and slathering his hands in salve, Harry massaged the creams onto the bruises and the magnificent trail of injuries littering Snape's body. The night passed by with agonizing slowness as Harry fervently worked to protect the man below him. By the time morning came, Harry was wild-eyed and desperate. He was thankful it was the weekend because he had already missed breakfast and was on the verge of missing lunch which would undoubtedly raise suspicions. But Severus was alive and well. It would take time to heal the rest of the injuries. There would be scars and Harry was sure it would take Snape more than a month to walk normally again with how he’d tried to heal the leg, but Severus was alive. And he would continue to live.

And still, there was a problem. One that was shaking Harry to his very core. No matter what he did, Severus could not be roused. Harry could not help but think of Neville’s parents with their far-off gaze. Magic was a dangerous thing, especially when the mind was involved.

 _I should get Poppy but he said not to. Dammit. I can’t fix this. Not even close. Nothing is showing up on my scans but my scans are just the basic ones. Half the injuries I could_ **_see_ ** _didn’t show up on there. I’m lucky I figured everything out internally as it is._ Harry quietly thanked Hermione who had taught him several internal scans for injuries after a particularly nasty Quidditch accident. _I have to do this. Gods if he wakes up, he'll kill me for this._

On his knees beside the couch, Harry raised his wand. “I’m so sorry, Severus. I have to. Legilimens!” 

Slipping into Snape’s mind without any struggle, Harry wove his way through terrifying memory after terrifying memory. He did his very best to keep his eyes focused forward. Ignoring absolutely everything he could, Harry desperately focused on finding Snape. The memories kept whipping by and even though Harry was terribly curious, he kept moving forward until at last, he found Snape sitting in front of the Whomping Willow. Licking his lips, Harry cleared his throat. 

“I uh, didn’t know legilimency could do this.”

“There seems to be very little you _do_ know, Harry Potter.”

Looking at the Snape in this place, Harry noticed how gaunt he appeared. Sitting on the ground, it looked as though he had lost nearly thirty pounds. But he looked happy, in a strange sense.

“Um, I think I fixed everything. I mean, it’s not that great and you’ll probably want to go to Madame Pomfrey later but-”

“Albus has forbidden me to visit her for injuries I sustain serving the Dark Lord.”

“That’s shite! He’s the one making you spy. Just go anyway.”

“She will not heal me.”

“Dumbledore wouldn’t…” Harry cut himself off. Dumbledore _would_. He had to steal nutritional potions from Snape and Poppy every year he returned to Hogwarts because she couldn’t give him anything Dumbledore decided could cause a fuss. He himself was in a similar predicament. Harry looked back to Snape.

Severus was silent. Crossing his right ankle over the left of his extended legs, he leaned back on his hands and the sturdy bark of the tree. Moonlight trickled across the serene, midnight blue landscape and colored the hollows of Snape’s face. He looked younger, though terribly tired. There were no flowers, no leaves on the Whomping Willow and so the light came through easily but created an interesting pattern on the ground. Then, suddenly the obsidian eyes turned their gaze to Harry. 

“Have you pried?”

“I found your sitting room.”

“No, you foolish twit. Have you pried into my memories?”

“No, sir.”

“You had the opportunity.”

“I didn’t want it.”

“Why?”

“I didn't want them like that. Guess I'd rather you tell me.”

Harry gulped immediately cursing his thoughtless nature.

_I wanted you to tell me. What is wrong with me?_

Snape exposed his neck to the sky as he bowed his head back. Moonlight licked down his throat and as Harry watched, he realized he did want Snape to tell him. He wanted Snape to sit with him and pour open his soul, bare himself to Harry the way he was bearing himself to the moon. He wanted to hear about what made Snape understand him, what made him generous and kind, and self-sacrificing. What hurt him so terribly that he was willing to die over and over again as penance?

Swallowing thickly as Snape stood and approached him, Harry became aware of the deep electric need in his chest. Standing face to face, Harry could feel the heat radiating off of the man’s body. Looking into the dark eyes, Harry couldn’t help but feel as if he’d fallen headfirst into the dark night sky. Tumbling and looking for stars in those eyes, the young man jumped when Snape’s elegant hands grabbed his shoulders.

“Do not make a habit of saving me, Harry. I am a rotten man who has done many terrible deeds. Protecting me is a death sentence that I will not allow to hang over your head.” The hand came up and brushed across Harry’s cheek which burned red in its wake. “You mustn’t worry about saving me.”

"But I d idn't know if you'd wake up. I had to, Severus!"

His exclamation caused a large smile to cover Snape's face. Harry was stunned into silence as he admired the warmth of the often-hidden smile.

"I will be fine. You have seen to that." Snape pulled the stunned wizard into a hug before whispering, “Protego.”

The walls slammed Harry out and he found himself sitting on his arse next to a drowsy Potions Professor. Picking him up again this time without thought of levitating the body or casting a lightening charm on Severus, Harry brought Snape into the large bedroom and pulled the black sheets over the bruised body. Igniting the fireplace and pulling the drapes shut, Harry placed Snape’s wand on the nightstand and left to grab lunch in the Great Hall.

Changing with some effort into his robes and eventually falling onto his bed, Harry looked up at the lion which seemed to be staring down at him with an intensity it had lacked before. _I am a Gryffindor. I am courageous and I’ll be damned if I let Snape die because he thinks he’s...tainted._ Vowing silently to himself he thought, _That man is no coward. He isn’t an evil Death Eater and he deserves someone in his corner. I’ll protect the git whether he wants me to or not._

With his mind made up, Harry stalked out of the room with bags under his eyes and a heavy grumble rumbling through his stomach. _I will protect him. He needs to be here. He’s got to stay alive. I can’t… I just can’t think about a world without him._ He huffed to himself as he approached Draco with a nod. _It’d be too normal. No snark. No sass. Nothing but normal._

Draco looked around a moment before snagging Harry’s arm as he passed. Snapped out of his thoughts, Harry looked around and was happy to confirm no one in the vicinity. Immediately, he sagged slightly and let his exhaustion show. Draco scowled.

“You look and smell like shite.”

“Thanks, Draco. Always count on you to make a man feel proud of his appearance.”

Draco frowned. “I’m not asking you this twice.” He pulled him into a corridor and erected a spell bubble around them. “Potter, are you all right? You’ve got blood in your hair.”

“Oh hell.” Harry spelled it away. “Thanks. It’s...Professor Snape.”

The silver eyes went wide. “What did you do?”

“Keep your voice down. I saved his stupid arse.” Draco arched an eyebrow. “I...you don’t know, but I get these visions.”

“From the Dark Lord.”

“Yeah. Guess it’s not so secret to his followers.”

Draco nodded. “My dad knows. Bellatrix too but no one else. He only knows because Snape knew. No one has really told _him_ yet.”

“Afraid he’ll just go nuts?”

“Something like that. Snape?”

“I patched him up the best I could but...I’m not perfect. He’ll have scars.”

Draco squeezed Harry’s arm before letting go. “Bugger’s got a lot of ‘em. Won’t mind a few more.” After a pause where the silver eyes searched green, Draco sighed. He pointed his wand at Harry who didn't even flinch. The gentle tingle of multiple cleaning spells washed over him. “Can’t believe I have to watch out for your arse.”

“Bloody annoying, innit?”

“Yes.” Draco swallowed and swatted Harry on the head. “I’ll keep an eye out at lunch and dinner. Sit on the other side of the table than normal and I’ll make sure those stupid lions can’t hurt you. If they went after Snape, you’re up next. Still going to Hogsmeade?”

"No bloody choice."

"Well, guess I'll go too."

"Thanks, Draco."

Draco groaned and shooed the still disheveled wizard away. He slowly started shuffling towards the Great Hall but before he was out of earshot heard Draco yell, “And Merlin, wear a glamour!”

With a flick of his wand, his look of exhaustion left and he was merrily walking down the hallway towards the other students and food as if he hadn’t just seen the worst sight of his life. As if he hadn’t just seen Severus on his deathbed, confessing to wishing for something. _For me,_ Harry’s inner voice supplied. He pushed the thoughts low and buried them in a mound of duty and sadness. Severus Snape was never his to begin with, and Harry knew that were he to try anything, he would uproot everything that man had ever worked for in his life. And so, Harry trudged on, sorrow concealed by the glamour, with a nagging pain in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Another chapter is up! Tell me what you guys think of it :) Poor Severus, he's having a bad go of it...first a cold and now this? These two boys have a target on their backs.


	10. Unthinkable

The day passed by with an agonizing slowness. The sort of slowness that only occurred when Harry was this exhausted. To make matters worse, it was a Saturday which meant he had to deal with Hogsmeade. He had promised, after all, to Ron and Hermione that he would be joining them backing out now would only heighten their suspicions.

Harry hated that he had to spend time with such a boisterous crowd after the events of the previous night. He hated that he had to laugh and smile and shove candy in his mouth when Snape was unconscious back in his rooms. He was beyond tense and Ron and Hermione proved to be too much for him under the circumstances. They agitated the last frayed nerves already blown from a night spent under the blanket of nightmares and worry. He desperately wished he could share with them what had happened, but he couldn't. He knew better. Besides, after lunch, he had been thoroughly chastised by Draco in the hallway  _ again _ for considering leaving the two Gryffindors to their own devices in Hogsmeade. He had no choice but to go to Hogsmeade.

Draco had however promised to keep a watchful eye over Harry, who was a little too tired to watch over himself so that he would at least feel somewhat safe at Hogsmeade. So long as Malfoy hovered around him, Harry supposed that things couldn’t get too rough. After all, Draco had already saved his arse once today. Harry supposed that if not Snape, Malfoy was the next best thing.

The trip to Hogsmeade had, as he expected, annoyed him greatly. No one there knew that back in Hogwarts, Snape was laid up in bed with extensive wounds that needed to recover. The sadness and exhaustion in his features were not quick to vanish and even with the glamour, he worried that Hermione had taken notice. Her scrutiny was difficult to escape from on a good day and this was not a good day. He was simply unable to act the part correctly today. Every so often she or Ron would lean in close, seemingly smelling him. Harry was incredibly grateful for the Slytherins that afternoon. They kept prowling around the trio, often splitting up some strange conversation with insults and petty hexes. By the end of the trip, Ron and Hermione were red in the face with rage and asking Harry outright if they thought Snape was dead. Which greatly alarmed Harry. 

He could not ascertain where they got such a strange notion until Dobby popped up and dragged Harry away by the elbow.

"Dobby what are you doing at Hogsmeade?"

"Dobby must speak with Harry Potter."

"It couldn't wait?"

"Master Snape required me to report but he is asleep."

"Shh. They'll hear you." Sure enough, Hermione and Ron were edging closer.

"Dobby has cast a silencing spell."

Harry sighed, wondering for a moment how anyone could think house-elves were stupid.

"Master Snape is not able to be talking to me."

Harry nodded. "There was an accident last night."

"Dobby knows. Dobby isn't supposed to be telling Harry Potter."

"But?"

"But Dobby must. Your friends, Harry Potter, know Master Snape was almost killed last night. They be thinking he is dead."

Harry hissed. "And they want that."

Dobby's wide blue eyes were watery. "Headmaster Dumbledore does, Harry Potter. He is thinking Snape is dead too."

"So everyone thinks he's dead?"

"Harry Potter should be careful."

"No kidding."

"They will be angry when Snape is not dead."

Harry sighed heavily and said, "Thanks Dobby. Guess I won't tell them alone then."

"Oh no! Harry Potter must be safe."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. Thank you, Dobby. I'll let Severus...Snape...know when he's awake."

Dobby vanished with a loud crack and immediately Ron and Hermione were at his side. Their questioning was ruthless and as they walked towards the train, Harry was beginning to grow uncomfortable.

It wasn't until Hermione yelled, "Well is Snape dead or not?" that Harry felt calm. Draco appeared, as if from thin air, and sauntered over to Harry's side.

"Bloody strange question coming from a m... a Gryffindor." The faux slip enraged Hermione enough to have her lose her tight grip on her line of questioning. Harry didn't miss Draco's tactics.

"It isn't strange. And I hope you were not about to call me what I think you were. Besides, it's none of your business."

"Mm. Asking about whether or not the head of house for Slytherin is alive is _certainly_ my business, Granger." Draco began walking with them. "He's alive and well. Just like always." He said it so cooly Harry wondered for a second if the night before had actually happened.

The silver-blue eyes suddenly turned to him as the four students stopped walking. There was fear in those eyes and, Harry realized, he had begun to get good at recognizing fear in apathetic faces. "Potter, might I have a word with you?" He spat out the words with such venom, Harry watched Ron take a step back.

"I'm not sure."

The gray eyes widened and Harry desperately tried to convey his need for help. Quickly Harry looked over to Hermione whose eyes were narrowed.

"A friendly discussion, of course." He nodded over to Hermione. "Potter, come with me. Now." 

Draco grabbed Harry's arm in one hand and his wand in the other. Standing a good head above Ron and Hermione they both looked at Harry and nodded letting him go but not before Ron snagged his arm and whispered, "Get some good spying done, mate. Don't know what he wants, but Slytherin is up to something." Then he too let Harry get dragged towards the Slytherin carriage.

When he flopped next to Draco and across from Blaise, Harry let out a heavy sigh. Never had he thought he'd be happy to have been dragged away by Draco Malfoy. Blaise acknowledged him with a polite nod before resuming his gaze out the window. In no time at all, the train was speeding back towards Hogwarts. Trees swept by quickly and snow still covered much of the countryside even though spring was rapidly approaching. All three boys found themselves watching the scenery fly by them.

_ I wonder where that cottage is. Maybe that mirror just shows a memory. I doubt Snape would be able to keep an eye on a cottage like that unless it was his. And he never said it was. Just said a place he knew. I wonder if I can use that mirror to find- _

“Don’t go to dinner tonight.” Draco’s voice cut through the silence.

Blaise followed it up with, “It’s not safe.”

“That so?”

The silver eyes peeled away from the window and landed on him. “Don’t worry, Potter. It has nothing to do with Snape. But don’t go to dinner.”

“All right. Not hard to convince me of that. Bloody hated spending the day with those two. Merlin, have the Gryffindors always been so…”

“Stupid?”

“Untalented?” Blaise supplied.

“No,” said Harry. “Obnoxious. The whole lot of ‘em wouldn’t sit still for ten seconds.”

Draco blinked before flashing a famous Malfoy grin. “Really are sounding Slytherin.”

“Yeah, should hear me when I speak Parseltongue. Then I  _ really _ sound Slytherin.”

“Woah! Draco, you never told me Harry’s a parselmouth.”

Draco shrugged. “The headmaster is having a dance in a few weeks.” Harry’s face scrunched up in distaste. “A spring formal for the older students. Just us and the seventh years.”

Harry sat up straighter. “Oh.”

“Is your brain wrapping around what that means?”

“Nothing good.”

Draco sighed. “Yes, Potter. Nothing good.”

Blaise said, “We’ve heard it was the idea of a few Gryffindors to encourage inter-house unity.” His face was stony and he continued looking outside, almost as if he couldn’t believe the sour taste filling his mouth.

"They didn't mention anything to me about it."

Squirming in his seat so that he was no longer rubbing elbows with Draco, Harry looked out the window too. The three boys watched the scenery change and knew they were drawing nearer to Hogwarts.  _ A bloody dance. Just what I need. Someone’ll spike the punch with a poison or...bloody hell! That’s it. _

“Draco!”

“Ah, your Potter brain has caught up to us after all.”

Leaning closer he whispered, “The potion?”

Blaise licked his lips nervously and Draco said, “Yes. If Severus can have it done by then. It’ll be in just under a month. Dumbledore is going to tell everyone tonight.”

“We’ll have to swap out all the punch bowls with our own.”

“Yes well, with Snape on our side…” Blaise trailed off.

Harry said, “I think I can get McGonagall to help too.”

Draco narrowed his eyes slightly before relaxing his expression. “I’ll stop by sometime next weekend then. Merlin knows Professor Snape needs someone more talented in potions to help him.”

“I’m doing just fine.”

“Didn’t receive an Outstanding though, did you, Potter?”

“No, but-”

“I rest my case.”

Harry groaned. “Fine, whatever. I’m sure he’ll be glad to have you over or whatever.”

Draco leaned close and whispered in Harry’s ear, “Don’t want to share?”

Heat rushed to Harry’s cheeks as Blaise continued looking out the window.  _ Bloody Draco. Always gets under my skin even if we’re supposed to be friends. Fucking Slytherin. _

Both Blaise and Harry startled when Draco laughed. The rich sound of it echoed through the carriage. “I’m just messing with you, Potter. Can’t resist.” 

Blaise said, “You’ll never knock that out of him, even if we are supposed to be cordial.”

“No, guess not. But Merlin, what  _ would _ he be like if he were nice?”

A small pout formed on Draco’s lips.

“Sorry. Come on over next Saturday morning if you can.”

“I’ll be there.” Draco brushed off his shirt. “Looks like we’re here.” As Harry and Draco stood, the blonde boy reared back and knocked Harry in the face. Quickly, he cast a spell to fix the broken nose.

“Draco, what the-”

“Potter, your  _ friends _ .”

Whipping around with rage in his eyes, he could see the back of Hermione’s bushy hair and Ron’s red head vanishing down the compartment.  _ Damn. Dumbledore really picked the best of the best to put under an Imperius.  _

He caught up to them quickly. Of course, they were appalled by what Draco had done. Harry was overjoyed. Not only had Draco fixed the problem of him being caught being friendly, but he had even given Harry a reason not to attend dinner. Harry hastily explained to his friends that he would be visiting Madam Pomfrey and probably going straight to sleep afterwards. Hermione sent him off with a curt nod and Ron, though he desperately wanted to keep Harry around, let him go too. 

Instead of going to the medi-witch, Harry ran down through the dungeons and towards the painting of Salazaar Slytherin though, he no longer needed to know where it was to find the entrance. Harry thought if it were possible, he could apparate right to the stone where it opened.

When Harry arrived at what he now considered home, he smiled down at the painting.  _ Bloody love coming back here. _ He took a deep breath and steeled himself. Still, he hadn’t slept and he hadn’t checked on Snape since that morning. Harry was certain Snape would live but what that life would look like and how well he would be able to move was another thing altogether. Harry wasn’t even sure that Snape’s mind would break free of whatever place he’d found him in that morning. 

“Caramel Turtles,” Harry said. Walking through the open stone to his right, Harry entered with nervousness at his heels.

A wall of delicious smells hit him. Beef, vegetables, and the delicate smell of the right amount of garlic filled the home. As the actual stone wall closed behind him, Harry stumbled backward. There was Snape, his large nose over a massive pot bubbling on a stove. His back was to Harry who was both startled and comforted by the sight. The thin hand holding a ladle lowered back to the pot and stirred several times before a flurry of mushrooms flew over and into the delicious smelling soup from the countertop. Harry’s breath was caught in his throat. He had seen Severus brew a million times but he'd never seen him cook. The homey act comforted something in Harry.

_ He washed his hair. Brushed it too _ . _Doesn't do that too often because it ends up knotted anyway. He's cooking. And it smells amazing._ Harry swallowed around the knot of relief in his throat.  _ Not here, _ he thought.  _ Don’t lose it here. You're just tired.  _

Several other ingredients plopped into the soup. Snape’s mouth, of which Harry could only see one side, quirked into a grin as he tasted the dark soup sitting in the ladle. The younger wizard took a deep breath in. The savory smells of the soup filled Harry’s nostrils and eased the tension winding around his heart. In this home, with Severus’s back to him, Harry distinctly felt the safe feeling return. All he wanted was to throw his arms around Snape and sob. Seeing the man openly lie in the face of death and watching the hidden desires gallop across the dark seas of Snape’s eyes profoundly hurt Harry. 

When the dark eyes turned to look at him, Harry had to bite his cheeks to stop from crying. 

“Come here.”

Harry obliged and shuffled over after shedding his outer cloak and boots at the entrance. A metal spoon spelled not to be too hot was sticking out from Snape’s hand. Harry briefly looked up to the eyes which were uncharacteristically warm and welcoming. There was even a slight curve to the pink lips that looked like a resting smile. Harry looked down at the spoon offered to him and the hand cradled beneath it. When he swallowed the soup, he let out a satisfied moan. Snape opened his grin slightly before covering the soup and leaning against the countertop. Harry was amazed at how decadent it tasted. He'd never had soup that tasted as welcoming and savory as this one.

“Harry.”

It was a strange way to say his name, Harry thought. He’d never heard the name so full of question, so full of unknown answers. Harry wasn’t sure why, but he nodded. 

“I do not remember much of the events of last night. I have extracted my memories and watched them but even those are at best, hazy. However,” Snape motioned for Harry to come closer. Harry did and found that the obsidian eyes were piercing his. “Yes, I was not mistaken. I saw your eyes that night.”

“You what?”

“Instead of the Dark Lord’s red eyes, for a moment, they changed to green.  _ This _ green, in particular.” Snape kept his face close, inspecting the eyes for a moment longer before pulling back and saying, “You do have very notable eyes.”

“Yeah, I know. My mother’s eyes.”

Nearly whispering Snape said, “I wouldn’t say so. At first glance perhaps, but they are not your mother’s eyes.”

“How...how do you-”

“Did you have a vision?”

"Yeah but-"

"What did you see?"

Harry let his question go, tucking it away for a later conversation knowing that he would not win this battle. 

"I saw…” The pain in his chest was back. Harry cleared his throat twice but could not manage to spit out what he saw. 

“Harry, I can look if you let me.”

He nodded and locked his gaze on the dark eyes as Snape trifled through his latest memories. It felt nothing like when he had practiced occlumency with Snape in the past. Instead of being forceful, it was gentle. Instead of demanding and yanking memories from him, it was questioning and soft. Harry could not believe how delicately Severus moved through his mind. It was bordering on intimate. Everything else in the world had vanished beside the pale face and the dark eyes.

Then, as quickly as it had started, Harry felt the presence begin to pull back from his mind. Snape staggered before shooting a hand out to stabilize himself on the counter. His gaze dropped and Snape was staring at a rogue piece of garlic sitting in the middle of the pale marble countertop with a heavy frown knitting his eyebrows together. His shoulders lifted before dropping in a sigh. Harry felt his stomach lurch as he watched fog cover the clear eyes. 

Harry couldn’t even begin to guess at what was churning inside Snape’s head but the fact that he was still able to see the face and was not greeted with the dark black back of Snape’s head gave him hope.  _ It isn’t what he said to me. It isn’t. He wouldn’t be so upset over a thing like that, would he? What if it's his magic? _

"Is your magic okay?"

"I am not up to snuff. I will heal."

All sign of concern suddenly vanished from the ivory skin. 

Turning his attention to Harry and looking down his nose he said, “Do not  _ ever _ come to my rescue again.”

“But-”

“You were thinking of going to  _ him _ ,” he hissed “to save me. Do you know how idiotic that is?”

“No it’s-”

“It is nothing besides reckless and foolish, Harry.” 

Harry noted there was no venom to the voice. It was trembling. No one else would have noticed the way the pitch of the low timbre of the voice went up, how it shook on the word “foolish” or how it absolutely broke on Harry’s name. But Harry heard. Harry noticed.

“I’m sorry, Snape.”

Any sign of his anger evaporated. Severus sagged and smiled down at Harry.

“Forgiven. Brat.” Harry opened his mouth to speak but Severus held up one long, pale hand. “Must we have a discussion in the kitchen?” The eyes suddenly looked very tired and Harry shook his head, following Severus through his bedroom and into his study. 

“I suppose since you have already found this room, and it is not ruined, you may sit with me in here.” Severus plopped into his leather chair and kicked his legs up onto the desk.

“Got a thing for shoes on furniture?”

The scowl deepened. “These are house shoes, Harry.”

_ Oh sure, that makes it different, right? _ Harry rolled his eyes.

Severus said, “What is it you wished to talk about?”

_ Damn, there it is again. He looks so tired. Merlin, just this morning I thought he was as good as gone and now here he is, talking, cooking, everything. Maybe I shouldn’t tell him. He’s still on the mend. Probably will be for a while after how I healed him. _

“Harry, pay attention.”

“Sorry. What did you say?”

Snape sneered at the young man sitting on the edge of his table. “Transfigure a chair, you twit.” 

Harry went around scrounging for an object to turn into a chair when Snape kicked a stool over in his direction.

“I asked you what is on your mind.”

“Oh. It’s...nothing really.”

Concentrating his magic, Harry watched the black stool slowly twist and turn until it was an elegant red chair complete with gold buttons. He bit back his grin as he looked at the wingback armchair. It stood in stark contrast to the rest of the darkness the room held. The Gryffindor-red chair stood out besides the dark bookshelves and the darker desk nearby. It called all attention away from the tattered spines of the books and the dark wood covered by a dark green rug. Harry smiled. This room was dark with a man dressed often in all black clothes. And here sat the brightest chair.

The room, which smelled of parchment and ink with the hint of incense, now comfortably held a disheveled looking Harry smiling in his chair.

“You’ve made yourself quite...at home...here.”

“What? You don’t like the red? Could make it gold.”

“I’d rather you not.”

Harry laughed quietly but held back the roaring guffaw bubbling in his throat. He was still upset. The image of a nearly dead Snape still clung to the edges of his mind. Besides that, he hadn’t slept yet from the night before and he was certain he could still smell Snape’s blood even over the delectable smell of soup which had wafted through the entire dungeon rooms. 

When it came down to it, Harry had never considered losing Severus and now that he had, it occupied every crevice of his mind. 

“Harry,” Snape said, “please tell me.”

“I...You almost…” Harry huffed in annoyance.  _ Can’t get it bloody right. What am I supposed to say? I’m fucking upset that you nearly died protecting me  _ **_after_ ** _ you knew that Voldemort already knew where I was staying? No. How about, “I’m scared. So bloody scared that you’ll die and leave me alone with a bunch of bloodthirsty Gryffindors.”  _

_ Gods, Snape. I  _ **_am_ ** _ scared. I’m bloody terrified. I don’t want my friends to be puppets. I don’t want it to be me against the world with Draco on my side as best as he can be. I don’t want it to be me against Dumbledore. I don’t want… Gods. It’s too much to bear. I don’t want to go back there and I know I have to go back there. To that...that dungeon.  _ Harry winced.  _ I’m so scared. Of Vernon, Voldemort. Petunia and Hermione and Ron and Dumbledore and… _ Harry took a deep, stabilizing breath.  _ I’m scared of everything that’s outside these dungeon walls, Snape. How do I say that? _

“You’ve said enough.”

“Were you…?”

“No. You are not difficult to read.” Snape paused, his eyebrow quirking upwards as he dropped his sneer. “Will you tell me why you are so…twitchy…or must I extract that?”

He held up his wand but all it did was ease Harry’s heart. “I never thought-”

“That is no great surprise.”

“I didn’t think you’d die.” Snape’s eyes widened a fraction. “I guess I just thought you were unkillable.”

“Are you under the impression that I will  _ survive _ this war?”

“Well I just thought-”

Snape stood, slamming his hands onto the desk. An old tome balancing precariously on the edge tumbled and hit the ground.

“You did not think! How could I possibly survive this? I have Albus at my throat feeding the Dark Lord information in an attempt to kill me and the Dark Lord is waiting for the perfect opportunity to point his wand at me because, unfortunately, I am still useful to him but he is more than eager to be rid of me. He has grown tired of the traitor at his side.

“What was it that you thought, Potter? That I would merrily walk out of this ordeal a hero? I am the villain! When you kill the Dark Lord, if I survive, I’ll be trounced around as a Death Eater. The masses who adore you will persecute me. Albus will have his way and I will either be in Azkaban until I wither up and die or I will be slaughtered by your fans. If neither happens, the Death Eaters who remain uncaptured will kill me in my sleep for betraying the Dark Lord.

“Merlin forbid, if we fail, I...I will be a prisoner to the Dark Lord. I know what he will do to me if you fail, Potter. And while your measly mind may not have the reach to imagine a terrible fate I will tell you. I will be his slave. On my knees for him, Potter, in more ways than one. I will lick the Muggle blood from his boots. I will kill for him and I will kill  _ you _ for him. I am not a hero. I’m not gifted and I cannot resist the Imperius. I  **am** the villain!”

Snape’s chest was heaving, his eyes wild. Harry sat with his mouth open in stunned silence. His knuckles were white as his hands pressed into the desk but his wand remained far from grasp. In the dim light of the room, Harry saw shadows play across Snape’s face in a way that made him appear both terrifying and terrified. His large nose overshadowed his pale pink lips which, Harry noted, were distinctively downturned. He had only seen Snape this angry once and it was when he had looked into his Pensieve.

More quietly Severus said, “I have always been the villain. I will die the villain.” Then the dark eyes dropped to the desk and Severus sat with a heavy thump, his heads falling to his hands. Stray hair stuck out between his fingers and Harry realized that Snape was as terrified as he was.

A thick blanket silenced them until Harry breathed out loud enough to lift Snape’s head. Wet but furious eyes met emeralds and Harry said, “You aren’t a villain to me.” He shrugged. “I just thought you’d figure a way out of it, is all. Thought maybe you’d want to live.”

“This world doesn’t want me.”

“Maybe not. But it’d be a shoddy world without you.”

Something volatile flickered in Snape’s eyes and Harry suddenly questioned whether he should have said something like that. But as quickly as it arose, it died. Together they sat in silence. They sat for nearly half an hour before Snape sat up as poised and composed as always.

“I should not have yelled.”

“No, it’s fine. I probably deserved that. Really don’t think much.” He rubbed the back of his head, trying to move past the rage settled in the corners of the room. “I actually wanted to talk to you about Dumbledore. Draco told me he’s planning a spring dance in a few weeks.”

“That old idiot.”

“About how I felt about it. Draco and I think-”

“Do you now?”

“Would you quit interrupting me you git?” Snape motioned him to continue and Harry did so, this time smiling. “If you can figure out the potion in the next few weeks, Draco and I think we could slip it into the punch bowls.”

Snape’s face paled. “They must be planning something similar.”

“Yeah, we’ll need help. I was thinking of McGonagall.”

“No. No, she has begun to act strangely in the past few days. The last time I went to her office she didn’t offer me a chocolate.”

“Snape, are you serious?”

“In my years of teaching, she has  _ never _ failed to offer me a chocolate.”

Snape’s face was dead serious and though Harry wanted to laugh, he could see the merit behind his professor’s conclusion. “Okay, all right. That makes it harder then.”

“I will talk to Filch, you will talk to Hagrid. McGonagall is not the only person in the castle with power, Harry.”

Harry’s smile widened.  _ Harry again. Damn, never thought being called Potter would bug me so much.  _ “Good. Then can you do it?”

This time, Snape smiled. It was a wide grin and it always took Harry’s breath away. “Don’t you mean  _ we _ , Harry?”

“I didn’t think I was helping. Draco said he’d come by next Saturday though.”

“There isn’t a need, but I’d welcome his company. You and I will be able to brew the potion sufficiently.”

“Us?”

“Yes. Merlin, must I repeat everything.” Snape looked over at the quizzical Harry. “The potion will need two brewers and one ingredient which I do not have.”

“Now that’s a surprise.”

“Yes, quite.” 

“Well, get on with it. What is it?”

The grin grew. Snape was clearly pleased with himself. “Your blood.”

“What?”

“Your blood. You naturally resist the Imperius. If you willingly give your blood to the potion and assisted me in the final stages of brewing after the blood has been added, I believe the potion will be complete.”

“So everyone at Hogwarts is going to drink my blood.”

Severus frowned. “I thought it was quite a remarkable idea.”

_ Merlin, he’s pouting! Snape is pouting.  _

“No, no. It’s brilliant. Really brilliant. I guess I just don’t like the idea of everyone drinking my blood.”

“It will be the potion, not your blood.” Snape looked like he wanted to say something more about the potioning process but shut his mouth instead. “The soup.”

He hustled out of the study and Harry hurriedly followed behind him. Snape ladled the soup into two black bowls while Harry stood nearby like a shadow, thinking about the concept of having to bleed into a potion. Before he knew what was happening, he felt Snape’s hand in the small of his back guiding him and his full bowl of soup to the dinner table. As usual, the two kept quiet as they ate. Severus, though Harry chastised him, had several glasses of wine regardless of the fact that not twelve hours ago he was nearly dead on the couch. 

The soup had warmed Harry’s belly and comforted his heart. He had three helpings and was eager for a fourth but a pale hand had cast a sticking charm to the bowls so Harry could not bring it back to the kitchen nor could he get a new one.

Still sitting at the table as Snape nursed his glass of wine, Harry said, “You think you can finish it?”

“When is the dance?”

“Three weeks from now.”

“Yes.” Smirking around the edges of his glass Snape said, “Will you have determined which of your feet is left and which is right by then?”

“Bloody hell! I’m not that bad of a dancer.” Snape’s eyebrows shot up as he finished off his wine. “Okay, fine. I’m terrible.”

“You learned only the one from Minerva, correct?”

“Yeah, what’s that got to do with it?”

“Well, you have hardly learned the nuance of dancing. The ebb and flow, poise and passion. You learned one dance and were expected to perform it well.”

“Well, yeah. But that didn’t help any. I was rubbish that night.”

“You only danced once.” 

"Okay how am I going to learn then?"

Harry scowled but Snape carefully set his wine glass down on the table. “One moment.” 

Snape stood and disappeared into his bedroom. After a few minutes, he returned in his typical black teaching robes which, Harry now realized, were quite becoming on him. He’d even gone and put on a pair of elegant, black dress shoes. Looking down at himself, Harry realized he was still in his robes from earlier that day. They had been a pair of his nicer ones as he was going to Hogsmeade. With a flick of the dark wand, soft waltz music filled the dungeons. The dark crimson color suddenly felt as if it had left the fabric and crept into his face. 

“Come.”

Severus outstretched his hand. Harry couldn’t even see a trace of humour in the features so he stood, cautiously approaching the hand and took it. Within a moment, he had been pulled to Snape’s chest. Harry, instead of melting into a blushing bride found himself standing a little taller. The hand settled between his hip and lower back, exuding a delicate pressure that followed the slight directional changes led by Snape’s hand. Harry looked up through his wire-rimmed glasses into the dark eyes and held the intensity of the gaze as they spun around the open space on the other side of the couch and dinner table. 

With Snape’s eyes holding his own gaze, Harry had no desire to look down at his feet and found that he had no desire to keep the man at arm's length either as he had at the Yule Ball with Parvati. In the pools of endless night, he could see the passion begin to stir. Suddenly, Harry felt as if he were in Snape’s mind, reliving and understanding everything there was to see in Severus. Swallowing thickly, he dropped his gaze to the buttoned attire, focusing intently on Snape’s throat where the collar pulled away to reveal clean, unmarred skin. 

Then, a delicate brush of hair across his lips as Severus leaned close and whispered. “Relax. You must trust your partner.”

Harry felt some of the tension dissipate from his shoulders, relaxing him into better posture. The movements began to feel natural, but not quite.

Snape kept his head close. “I am guiding you, Harry. I have you.”

With those words, Harry released the last of whatever doubts or suspicions he harbored in his heart about Severus Snape, renowned Potions Master. He tilted his head up and brought his eyes back to Snape’s again, this time with his body singing with his heart and exuding passion through poise. The pale pink lips so often unsmiling, ticked upwards and Severus tugged Harry a tad closer to him before he took off leading Harry around the room. Harry’s heart sang as he let himself leak passion into the cold dungeon air. They danced and danced, Severus with his hair flowing around him and Harry with his expression open and his feet feeling light. They moved quickly and elegantly as if their passions, the two bleeding hearts, had mixed perfectly to create a unified symphony of understanding.

The two moved like for a long time until, at last, the music seemed to reach its end and fizzle out as Snape slammed to a stop with the clack of his heels. He held Harry’s hand and gaze a moment longer before dropping Harry’s hand and stepping back out of his space. 

Harry blinked for a moment, feeling the enormity of his loneliness as the physical contact ended. As he stood staring at the man, his own chest heaved. He had been familiar with enamourment, a young man like himself, even though he was in the middle of a war, had desires. Harry was not unfamiliar with the low burn of lust in his belly. But this light creature occupying the space of his heart and the heavy hurt that seemed to follow it was foreign. As he stared at his professor, one thought illuminated all else like lightning. _ Bloody hell, I’m falling in love with Severus. _

“Dessert is in order, I think.” 

Snape limped over to the nearby chair and relaxed into it with a wince.

Harry gathered himself and sat across from him. “Is your leg all right? I did my best but that’s not saying much.”

Snape cocked his head. “I am surprised you were able to do as much. I saw that you infused your magic into the healing spells. That is quite...complex. Even for a wizard of your caliber.”

“Is that a compliment?”

Severus looked down and grumbled something before flicking his wand. Out from the oven floated a cherry pie. The heavy smell of the soup had overwhelmed the lighter scent of the pie. Harry was thoroughly surprised and near giddy at the thought of eating it. Harry sliced the pie with his wand and doled out a healthy serving for himself and Severus on two neat plates. The two happily set to work eating it. Harry continued to yawn, fighting against the urge to sleep. He had just caught himself staring straight into the pie on his plate while forgetting to eat the piece still pierced on his fork. The only reason Harry stayed up was so that he didn’t completely ruin his sleeping schedule. It had taken him long enough to settle in when he first arrived at these quarters months ago.

Out of nowhere, as he finished up his pie, he asked, “Why not Draco?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Harry swallowed the bite and said, “For the potion. He got an Outstanding.”

Snape looked down his hooked nose and shook his head. “He does not have the mind for this.”

Scoffing, Harry said, “And I do?”

“Yes.” The dark eyes pinned him to his chair. “You have a brilliant mind caught in a foolish body. If you were not so bloody stubborn, you would have had an Outstanding. I have no doubt that  _ if _ you desired it, you could get your Mastery in Potions with little effort.”

“I never thought that-”

“Ah yes, a pattern.”

Harry growled and tossed his head back but before he could rebut, the soft rumble of Snape’s laughter rolled across the space between them. Snape stood a bit shakily but continued to laugh to himself. Something warm lit up his face. Before Harry could analyze it Snape turned and walked towards his room.

“I need rest, as do you. We will begin brewing tomorrow. Noon. Goodnight, Harry.”

“Night, Snape.”

Harry watched the poised back disappear behind the dark wood door and sighed. Extinguishing the fire and cleaning up the dishes and room, Harry felt the world swim in shadows as his body finally began protesting his lack of sleep. Trudging off to the bathroom with pajama pants slung across his shoulder, Harry yawned again. 

The first few moments of the decadent shower were wonderful. They pushed off the false energy and bravado he'd worn all day. But then, it all took a turn for the worse. 

The residual blood mingled with water and its iron scent rose into the air like an ugly reminder of the memories Harry was fighting to suppress. He raked his hands through his hair and watched as the water turned to a rusty red. The cherry pie in his stomach pressed against his throat. A serious tremble worked its way through his limbs until, without thinking, Harry grabbed Snape’s shampoo and poured a tiny amount into his hair. As it lathered and released the soft scent of fruit he had come to associate with Snape, Harry cried.

He cried and cried even as the soap stung his eyes. He cried until it was no longer tears escaping him but angry howls. Harry screamed and sobbed until he lost his balance, slipped, and fell cracking his arm painfully against a stone shelf on the way down. And even then, he cried not for his arm but his future. Nearly losing Severus had proved to be too much. He couldn’t bear to think of it. And yet, the angry, fear-fuelled words Snape had screamed at him earlier were howling through his mind like an angry wind because Harry knew. He knew they were true.

“I’m so fucking dumb!” Harry shouted. The water crashed down on his head as he screamed gutturally, ramming his fist into the stone wall and promptly cracking his knuckles. Another agonizing scream cracked out of his throat as he clutched his hand. 

Oblivious to his surroundings, Harry curled up on his side and wailed. Hot tears and hotter water trickled down his face as he vaguely registered something banging on the door. Harry slammed his eyes shut and let his anguish overtake him.

***********************************

Just as Severus was about to succumb to sleep, Harry screamed. Sitting bolt upright in bed, the pale figure was lit only by the ghostly light of the moon. It covered his shoulders in a blue blanket and wrapped around his exposed throat. He pressed the residual sleep from his mind as he focused on the sound of Harry’s anguished cries. Leaping from bed, pain shocked him and sent his arms out in front of him as he crashed to the floor.

“Dammit,” he ground out. 

Slowing his approach, though he hated to do so, Severus eased his way to standing until the pain no longer threatened his movement. Quickly then, he tossed on the matching black pajama top to the bottoms. Without slipping on his house shoes or slippers, he limped his way towards the sound which was echoing from the bathroom. Standing outside the door, he began to knock on the door, calling Harry’s name as he did so.

He was met with a loud, “I’m so fucking dumb!” Several thumps and a loud crack followed it.

“Harry. Harry! ”

Severus couldn’t barge in, no matter how terribly he wanted to help Harry. He could hear the water pouring down and knew that if he were to walk in, he would find Harry Potter nude and sobbing in the shower. Hesitating for a moment, one of the only times he had ever done so, Severus decided that he’d rather be damned for invading his privacy than allowing Harry to be crippled by the anguish he was feeling regardless of the cause.

Wand pointed at the lock he said, “Alohomora.” The door clicked and he tossed it open.

He had not expected to find Harry curled up on the floor, weeping, bleeding, and ignoring everything around him. There was shampoo in his eyes. The sight seized Snape’s chest and he found himself standing open-mouthed in horror as Harry shouted about his own stupidity. 

_ Never again. Never again will I insult his intelligence. Not if this is the cost. _

Tossing the glass door open with a bang, he gripped Harry around the shoulders and hauled him from the shower. Water sprayed everywhere and his bare feet had no purchase on the slick tile. Severus tumbled down to the floor with Harry who was still sobbing as if nothing had happened yet. Undeterred, Snape kept pulling until he and Harry both were situated on a small rug outside the large clawfoot bathtub. He spelled Harry clean and dry, quickly turning off the water with a flick of his wand. Looking down at the swollen hand, Snape narrowed his focus and healed Harry’s arm. Running the wand over it carefully, he found no abnormalities. His magic had behaved correctly, though just barely.

“Accio Harry Potter’s pants.” His voice shook and the pants wavered on their way over, startling him. Severus Snape was not disturbed by anything. Severus Snape did not become afraid. But he could not deny that with Harry shaking and screaming in his lap, he felt terribly afraid and his magic was shaky enough from the injuries he had sustained the night prior. He clothed Harry quickly before pulling him up more into his lap and off the floor. 

Two hands bunched into his pajama top and he found himself looking down at a snotty, puffy-eyed, red-in-the-face Harry Potter. Before he could even register the pain contorting Harry’s face, before he could think to ask what was wrong, Harry opened his mouth.

Sending spit everywhere, Harry screamed. “I’m so dumb! I really thought…” He screamed and closed his eyes. The watery greens opened again. “I wanted you to live.” He hiccuped and screamed around the last word until he slammed his head down on Snape’s chest and released an even louder symphony of screams. 

Severus held him tight, not even rubbing soothing circles on his back, just keeping him pressed firmly into his chest. This wizard, one of the most powerful to ever live, was weeping for him. Severus felt agony rip him apart as he cradled Harry to him.

“Accio calming draught.”

He tried to pry Harry off him for long enough to slip him the potion but Harry only screamed as if he were being handed over to the Dark Lord. 

“Harry, I am all right. I am here.” Snape leaned low and pressed Harry's head into his chest for a moment. “I will not leave. As much as the world cannot be rid of you, it cannot easily be rid of me. Harry…” Snape stroked the now dry raven locks. “Harry, look at me.” The head peeled back and bloodshot eyes emerged from the messy hair. “I will not die easily. I will not.”

Harry didn't scream this time but the tears kept pouring down his cheeks. Severus looked on, anguish clear in his face, as he watched Harry weep. The head buried itself back into his chest but Snape could not allow it. He kept talking.

"Harry, please look at me." The eyes found his again. "I will not promise you that I will live. I cannot do that."

Harry weakly asked why.

"I will not lie to you." The screams had stopped. "I will not die easily, Harry. I can promise that."

He held out the draught, pressed the cool bottle to Harry's lips. This time around, Harry had calmed enough so that Snape could slip him the draught. He swallowed obediently before blinking back a few tears and sighing. The body went slack and curled up against him. Harry had fallen asleep. Unable to command his magic as well as he wanted and thoroughly unable to lift Harry up with his own legs, Severus called for a blanket and wrapped it around him and Harry. He looked down at the mess of hair and closed his eyes tightly, unwilling to recognize the agony it caused him to know Harry felt such pain. 

_ The last time I held someone this way was… It was your mother, Harry. Lily.  _ Firmly tucking the edge of a blanket underneath him, Severus sighed.  _ I will not let you die but if I must perish in the process of saving your arse, please, Harry, do not turn into… _

Severus couldn’t finish the idea. It was too painful to think of Harry depressed, unwilling to live and unwilling to die. Severus focused on the easy rise and fall of Harry’s chest and the warmth he exuded. The pressure of sleep and recovery bit into his conscious thoughts and took him away. He held to the dream that Harry would be all right. Come morning everything would be okay.

And it was. He woke back in his bed, surely brought there by Harry, with the blanket folded at his feet with a small note that read:

_ Thank you.  _

_ \- H _

Severus shook his head, clearing it of the sleep. He sat on the edge of his bed for a long time that morning. Something inexplicable had transpired between the two. Snape wasn't sure he was ready to face but when he went out, wearing his normal face, and said good morning to Harry, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The two did not mention it at breakfast or at lunch or when they brewed. They did not mention it at all but something between them had changed nonetheless. Something had changed indeed. Severus could feel it crackling in the air and it smelled of fire and danger and reckless hope. As he watched Harry that afternoon, watched him effortlessly sync up to his movements around the potions lab, Severus knew. He knew what had happened. 

_ Harry. Don't. Please, I beg of you. Don't love a man like me. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouch, my heart. This one is a really big one for me and I hope you guys like it as much as I do. They're finally opening up to each other a bit and it hurts. Nothing can be easy, of course. Tell me what you guys think! Thanks so much for reading <3 Also, Happy Halloween a day early to all you guys reading this when it comes out. It's an extra-long chapter as a little treat :)


	11. Insufferable Gryffindors

Harry returned that night, and the following night, and nearly every single night after that, pulled away only by Draco’s scathing remarks and slender hands. Only the blonde Slytherin was able to talk Harry out of hovering around Snape. 

The brave Gryffindor knew he was being foolish, letting their carefully constructed plan develop holes by deciding to guard Snape but witnessing Severus in that place had changed Harry. There had been something ethereal about that Severus. Something so innocently open. Harry dreamed of finding again. He’d been granted access to so much of Severus, his quarters, his life, even the rare glimpse of emotion but Harry had never  _ seen _ Snape. Not like he had inside his mind. He could not bear to think of what would happen should harm come towards that soft, caring creature. Severus never uttered the words that night, but Harry saw love. There was a deep love inside the brown eyes that Harry hadn’t seen in the waking world.

Besides that, Harry found himself struggling against the images flowing through his mind. He could not shake the image of Snape’s pale face caked in blood. It was worse at night when he was alone in Gryffindor Tower listening to the others snore. Snape’s battered and bloody body floated in his dreams, haunted him with the terror that Snape himself did not expect to survive this war. Harry was afraid, terribly so, that he would lose someone he had long since trusted to be himself.

_ Snape’s been cruel, downright nasty to us, but he’s still Snape. He isn’t two-faced. Not really. Can’t count if the other face is kind, can it? _

His mind buzzed. The cool air nipping at his ankles soothed the wild swarm of wasps in his brain. The damp cold he once dreaded now reminded him of home. Half the time he even crept into the dungeons to hang out in the middle of the Slytherin common room. He’d never have imagined  _ this _ is what home felt like to him, but he hardly thought wizards existed at one point in his life. 

_ I knew nothing, didn’t I? Bollocks, what a crazy world this is. _

The thought of Voldemort twinged in his brow as he remembered that even this was too good to be true. There was still a maniac out there, a maniac Harry was being prepped to kill. He shook his head, tugging himself away from the thought of training to kill Voldemort. 

Harry instead thought about the last several months. His bed up in Gryffindor Tower no longer felt comfortable and his friends’ conversation seemed dull and lackluster. In another three days, there would be a ball. He could only hope that Snape’s potion would succeed in returning them to their normal state. Even so, he wasn’t sure he was ready to go back to spending most of his time in the company of his friends. He huffed to himself as he whispered the password.

_ Never thought I’d prefer Severus Sodding Snape’s conversation more than Ron’s.  _ **_That_ ** _ is the real shock. No doubt ‘Mione will spend the rest of her life apologizing for how they treated me. But they’ve been all right recently. Nice enough, I suppose. I’m bloody sure that Dumbledore has something up his sleeve though. ‘Specially after he practically fed the information to Voldemort about where I live and that Snape knew. Snape… idiot seems to think  _ **_that_ ** _ part was an accident, that he didn’t want him dead at Voldemort’s feet.  _ Something nipped at the back of his mind.

_ He told you he was still useful.  _ Harry rolled his eyes and stepped through the opening in the wall.  _ Right. No one else is as good as Snape is at getting information from and for Voldemort. The Dark Lord. In these rooms, it’s the Dark Lord.  _

Waltzing into the sitting room, Harry walked directly in on Snape unceremoniously shoving a handful of chocolate almonds into his mouth. In all his time spent in Snape’s company, he had only known the man to delicately pick out one at a time and slowly eat it. Now, Snape was nearly choking on what could have been fifteen chocolate almonds. Several fell between the legs positioned awkwardly, one draping across the arm of the wingback and the other tucked up beneath Snape. 

In a flurry of movement, Snape coughed and rearranged himself. He smoothed his hands down the black slacks as he cleared his throat. A delicate, endearing crimson coloured the high cheekbones. Snape brushed the last crumbs off his dark green turtleneck as he flicked his eyes up to Harry. 

He said, “You’re earlier than usual.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, an expression he’d adopted from Snape. “Problem?”

“No, no. Of course not.” The blush remained. “Is something the matter?”

Harry set his things down and laughed as he kicked off his shoes. Snape scowled at him as he waved the rest of the chocolate away. Harry smirked and called in the chocolates Snape kept for him along with a cup of decaf for himself. Snape’s dark eyes followed the easy bob of the cup with approval. Harry had been practicing his wandless magic.

“Everything’s fine. Ron and Hermione are off snogging somewhere so I could get away from them earlier.”

“Get away from them? Despising the company of other Gryffindors… You’re beginning to sound awfully Slytherin.”

“You’re rubbing off on me. Besides given that the company is intent on killing me at some point...” Harry trailed off with a shrug.

Harry watched Snape languidly unfold himself from the chair nearest the fire. Long legs covered in black slacks unfurled as the broad shoulders pulled Snape into near-perfect posture. His dark hair brushed lightly against his shoulders as it inched closer to his collarbones. Harry was awed by the elegance of the man.

_ How could they make fun of him? How could they? He’s… _

“Mister Potter, as much as I appreciate your ogling, you may wish to close your mouth before I hex it shut.”

Striding into the other room, Snape returned with his regular box of chocolates before heading towards his study.

Pausing at the door he said, “If you wish to join me in my study tonight, you may.”

Harry padded behind Severus with his chocolates in hand, carefully walking through the dim bedroom and into the massive study. Snape motioned Harry's chair, a smaller red one that seemed homey among the books nearer to the crackling fire. Harry noticed that the golden buttons were no longer on the chair. He bit back a laugh.  _ Sod’s got his limits and its Gryffindor colors. _ The leather of Snape’s chair moaned as he sat down behind the large desk.

Raising his eyes to watch Snape, Harry found himself fighting back the warm curls of admiration. Black hair framed the pale face and long tendrils of fire danced in the dark eyes. Pink lips opened slightly to drink the steaming coffee. Harry absently wondered if Severus did anything without a purpose.

“Your Potions scores are abysmal. Considering how perfectly you are able to brew with me…” Snape trailed off, staring down at the papers scattered across his desk. He looked shocked that he had given Harry a compliment. “If you are looking for something to occupy your time, perhaps that would be a good place to start. I assure you, there are plenty of books on the subject matter in this room.”

Harry laughed, filling the cozy room with a sound that made Snape’s lips lift. Something flickered across the dark expanse in Snape’s eyes. Harry pulled out his Potions book and began reading. His mind struggled to focus on the text and instead kept urging him to stare at the Potions Professor calming scribbling away at the parchment. There was something soothing about the rhythmic scratch of quill against paper and the calm blanketing Snape’s features. Harry had never noticed how serene the strong features of the face became when they weren’t tightened into a sneer or a frown. He felt as if he were witnessing the secrets of the universe spill out of Snape’s pale skin.

The two sat in the warm room, occasionally sharing quips and chocolate until Snape hissed. Clutching at his arm, Severus stood with such force, he knocked over his cup. Tearing into his room and leaving a confused Harry behind, Harry stood to chase him. 

Finding him just as he tossed on a cape, Harry said, “Is it-”

“It is a summons. You may stay here while I am gone. Do not make a mess of things.”

“Snape, last time they almost killed you. Why are you going back? Just stay here, say Dumbledore needed you to do something.”

“Harry, I am on poor terms with  _ both _ of these maniacs. The Dark Lord already knows Albus is losing his faith in me. I am certain he believes me to be the traitor but so long as I continue being useful in some capacity no one in my care will die. I cannot...avoid...him. And I certainly  _ cannot _ stand here conversing with you.” The last part was shouted as Snape headed towards the door. He didn’t wait for a response as he walked to the door.

But at the entrance, he stopped. “I will not die easily, Harry. Remember that. You, however, have a penchant for landing yourself in threatening situations. Stay or leave just  _ do _ be careful.”

Then he vanished through the opening. Harry swore he could hear the shoes clack down the hallways through the dungeons.

Mumbling to himself, Harry said, “I’ll stay.”

Harry had the intention of staying put the whole night, he did. But not twenty minutes after Snape had been summoned, Harry realized he’d left all his transfiguration work atop his unmade bed back in Gryffindor Tower. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. 

Try as he might, he could not live solely in the rooms offered up by Snape. Dumbledore had made that perfectly clear. As such, he had to give the appearance that his bed in the tower was lived in, so every day he unloaded all his work before packing it up, shrinking it, and heading back down to the dungeons. Apparently, tonight he had forgotten the transfiguration homework which was an excessively long essay on something he couldn’t remember.

_ Course I forgot it. Good thing Snape isn’t here because I’d never hear the end of that lecture. I’ll grab it quick.  _

In a huff of annoyance, Harry had walked out of the dungeon rooms without his invisibility cloak, thinking it was early enough it wouldn’t matter. Ron and Hermione were off snogging somewhere and he could have just been out practicing Quidditch or talking with Dobby in the kitchen, both things he enjoyed doing. He only needed to slip inside and grab his homework. Enough students were still prowling about throughout Hogwarts that he didn’t even remotely stick out.

Harry’s sole focus was nabbing his homework and heading back before Snape had a chance to return and lecture him on his mental capabilities. 

Running up the marble stairs taking two at a time, Harry felt eager to get in and out. The painting of the fat lady hesitated as Harry spoke the password. He thought she looked remarkably sad but after a moment’s pause, she swung out of the way. Stepping into the dorm, Harry thought it awfully quiet. It wasn’t alarming to him, given the hour of night, he wasn’t terribly surprised that everyone was busy. He’d seen what felt like a million Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs scurrying through and hanging out in the corridors like normal.

He didn’t pay any attention to the silence in Gryffindor Tower.

Harry walked into his room and grabbed his work, shrinking it down and stuffing it into his pocket. Pausing for a moment, he realized no one was there either. He shrugged and bent down on one knee to look through his trunk for Sirius’s penknife. He’d been meaning to grab it and bring it down to Snape’s quarters even if the man made a stink about something of the mutt’s being in there. 

As he stood, he heard the quiet clamber of footsteps. All at once, something felt strange. Rolling his lips together, he decided he was being silly but, as an extra precaution, he cast a notice-me-not charm on himself before exiting the room. Leaving back into the common area, Harry’s heart dropped.

Every Gryffindor he knew, first-years to seventh-years, stood glaring in the direction of the door opening and closing behind him. It was Hermione’s wand that revealed him. And, once again, prevented him from exiting. A peeved looking Hermione stood at the front of the pack looking strikingly like Molly Weasly when she had discovered one of her children’s antics. Harry’s eyes danced across the crowd realizing that all of his friends were not so subtly trying to keep their wands concealed, readying for a battle. A large part of Harry was mad about how poorly they hid their wands as if he hadn’t spent the last year learning fighting tactics from everyone who talked to him.

_ What the hell is going on here? If Dumbledore has Ron and Hermione under the Imperius they might be able to convince the rest but why? Oh, bloody hell. Snape’s going to kill me.  _ A wicked voice in his head snickered,  _ If they don’t do it for him. _

“Oi, Potter!” Ron called out to his old friend from the front of the group of children a bit too jovially for Harry’s taste given that they looked like a bonafide army. The use of his last name stung more than he expected it would, especially since he had given them that false apology. “Where did you vanish off to tonight?”

“Didn’t feel like watching you guys snog.” Harry made a gagging noise.

Hermione cut in, silencing the obnoxious tapping of her shoes. “Where were you?”

“Was out walking. Scar was hurting pretty bad. Don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

Harry approached the gang of Gryffindors, keeping his hand near his wand. 

_ More subtle than this lot. That shite’ll never work in a real fight. _

Hermione’s hand shot out as she closed the distance, encircling around his left wrist as she leaned in and buried her nose in his hair.

“‘Mione, what are you doing?”

“You  _ reek _ .”

Suddenly aware that Ron and half the group had circled up behind him he leaned in close. “What’s this about? Do I need a shower or something? Was flying earlier but I don't’ think-”

“You smell like Professor Snape, Harry.”

“And if I do? You lot know I have legilimency practice with him and I’ve been told to go to him in case of emergency. How do you know what he smells like anyway? Innit a little weird to be sniffing at your friends?”

Hermione’s grip tightened, clearly unimpressed by Harry. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of worry spark through him. This wasn’t right. Not at all. They’d been fine to him for the past three weeks. He almost doubted whether or not they were still under the Imperius. Until now, that is.

Standing straight he said, “Besides, it’s Snape. He isn’t that bad once you get to know him. Dumbledore trusts him, right?” In a hushed voice, he said, “And the Order, you know?”

“Are we talking about the same person? Professor Snape. Mean, vindictive, probably on the Death Eater’s side Snape? Harry, you hate him.”

_ I don’t bloody hate him. I’ve been an idiot like my dad for most of my schooling, Hermione. Running around, picking up where he left off tormenting Snape. Believing in whatever Dumbledore shoved down my throat. But as it turns out, Snape actually cares about me. About this war. About enough things to try and change them. _

Another voice filled his head, one he pushed down.  _ He said that he would. Would...love me. _

“I’ve been nasty to him. We all have. He really… I don’t know. He isn’t that bad! That’s all I can say. He’s not a traitor. And I don’t know why I have to make excuses to you lot who trapped me in here not too long ago. Dumbledore trusts him and not six months ago everyone thought that should be enough.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. Harry twitched as multiple pairs of heavy hands landed on his shoulders. He didn’t turn around to look, instead stood a little taller and braced his core. He’d been in this position with Vernon before and knew what to expect.

Ron whispered in his ear behind him, “You fuckin’ fancy him? Fancy blokes?”

_ Ron isn’t… He wouldn’t care about that. No, it’s Dumbledore looking for information. And I volunteer information when I'm pissed, that's all. _

Hermione sighed. “Tell us right now what’s happening and we won’t hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Hermione, Merlin! Do you hear yourself? What the hell has gotten into you? You wanna know if I fancy blokes? If I fancy  _ Professor Snape? _ Really?” Harry scanned the crowd in front of him. He let out a huff of laughter even though he  _ did _ fancy Snape and this really wasn’t funny at all. “Have you lost your mind?”

_ I do fancy blokes. I fancy Severus. But I’d sooner be Voldemort’s best friend than tell you that right now, ‘Mione. Is it a sin to fancy blokes in this place with all that bloodline crap? That doesn’t make much sense but… I’m not sure. No, it's got to be Dumbledore. _

Ginny spoke up beside him, kicking him in the shin. “We aren’t stupid, you know. We know that Draco was supposed to be recruited. Who knows who he brought with him.”

Harry’s green eyes widened in shock. “No, no, no. No. You can’t think that I…. Hermione, please. That’s ridiculous.”

_ Merlin, she thinks I’m a Death Eater. Is that Dumbledore’s big plan? Get them to think Draco recruited me? Grasping at straws. _

“Draco being a Death Eater makes sense. I get that.” Harry felt his throat getting tight. It didn’t make sense for Draco to be a Death Eater. Not of his own volition at least. Harry remembered the times Draco had come back to the common room bruised and trembling. He did what he did to avoid something far worse. That Hermione of all people couldn’t see this was evidence of Dumbledore’s control.

“I get him being a Death Eater, I don’t think he is yet but… me? Me, a Death Eater? That’s an absolute joke. We’ve been over this.”

The hands tightened and he could hear Ron practically growling behind him. 

“Are you still stuck on that shite? I would have thought getting sliced up in front of you would have-” The tip of a wand pressed against his neck and someone, though he wasn’t sure who, began whispering disgusting things in his ear.

Hermione shook her head and the whispering stopped and the wand pulled back far enough that he could no longer feel its pressure. 

“Dumbledore specifically told Ron and me that if I thought you were with or around Professor Snape to inform him. What conclusion would you have me draw?” Hermione narrowed her eyes, letting them briefly flick to his left arm. “What’s he doing to you?”

Harry stood too quietly, flabbergasted.  _ She really thinks Snape is doing something to me. That he...that he is taking me over to Voldemort’s side? That’s rubbish! If anything, I hate the Dark Lord now more than ever after...after Snape. Oh bollocks. _

Harry leaned away from Hermione as she drew her wand.

“You can’t possibly think I’m a… a Death Eater. Oh yeah, the boy-who-lived and is constantly tormented by every Death Eater known to man  _ switches sides _ . That makes a lot of sense, doesn’t it?” 

“Then why are you hanging around that awful bat?” Ginny’s voice cut through the chatter. Hermione’s arm never lowered. 

“Stop calling him shit like that!” Harry shouted. “I get we’ve made fun of him for a long time but Merlin. He’s at least  _ trying _ and Dumbledore… Dumbledore does trust him. I know so.” Harry breathed out slowly, realizing that he was treading on thin ice and that yelling might end him in an early grave, well, earlier than expected. “Snape isn’t that bad and he’s definitely not one of them. I mean, c’mon ‘Mione, Ginny, Ron! You were there over the summer. The Order. You’ve got it all wrong.”

Ron’s voice rumbled in his ear again as the hands tightened. “Fancy blokes. I think you do. Wanna sleep with that greasy, hooknose traitor.”

“Don’t call him that!” Harry yelled. Immediately recognizing his mistake he lowered his eyes in a show of sorrow. “It’s the wands pointed at my throat. Sorry.”

_ Relax, relax. There are way too many angry eyes on you and one talented very wand pointed at your face. Defending Snape isn’t going to help anyone. Just let it go, Dumbledore riled them all up anyway. He’d know that you would defend him. And no one is here to rescue you tonight.  _

Harry sighed and tried to calm down. If he fell asleep or passed out at all, as he learned in a nasty Defense class, his mind was open to the Dark Lord. If he were knocked out here… Harry shuddered but quickly brought his fear under control again. If he were knocked out here, he’d be in real trouble. 

Ron’s hand tightened. “You want in that  _ traitor’s _ pants.”

“Haven’t so much as bloody kissed anyone and you know that.” Harry shot a look over his shoulder and practically spit at Ron. “And don’t  _ fucking _ call him that.”

Hermione’s eyebrows lowered in a frown. “Forget Snape. Harry, get on with telling us what’s going on. Are you on Draco’s side? We know Death Eaters like to move in pairs. Are you his-”

“This is ridiculous. You all have gone mad.”

“Harry, answer.”

“No! I’m not bloody on the Death Eaters side. Draco… Malfoy,” he corrected “is not my partner.”

“Yeah?” Ginny said. “Then how come you’re cozying up to the Slytherin slut.”

“Fuck off, Gin. You’re one to talk.” Harry clutched his wand, fighting to keep his temper under control. “Draco isn’t a slut. He hasn’t slept with anyone that I know of.”

Hermione said, “Oh? You would know too wouldn’t you, since you’re spending so much time with him. You’re his friend aren’t you?”

Ron’s breath ghost over his ear. “Another cock you want up your-”

“Fucking dammit! What’s wrong with you lot?”

“Harry,” Hermione said, “We just want to know what’s going on. No one else comes in here smelling like Snape and when you don’t smell like him, you  _ reek _ of Draco’s cologne. We aren’t idiots. You’re spending every minute with those two Death Eaters. Worse than that, you’re lying to us. Your real friends.”

All around him wands were being drawn and sleeves were rolled up.

_ Oh boy. This is bad. Think, Harry, think! Think, Merlin, before this goes any further south.  _ Then it hit Harry and it hit him hard.  _ Fuck. That’s why he was summoned. Dumbledore must have tipped off someone or something to get me killed here. Shit.  _

“I haven’t done anything wrong. Neither has Snape. Neither has Draco. I get Snape’s a Death Eater, but he isn’t bad. Dumbledore trusts him and so do I. I trust Severus Snape. So there.” The words burned in his mouth, but he kept going. “I just saw him with legilimency lessons but he screamed a bunch and kicked me out early okay? I was just grabbing my homework to go just do it somewhere calm. Git can really get in your head.”

For a moment, everyone was quiet. Their faces, completely unreadable. And then it all soured. Everyone wrinkled their noses, grimaced as if they’d swallowed skele-gro.

Ginny shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

Hermione said, “Harry, we know.”

“About what?”

“We know you can talk to you-know-who. We know you are every night. Ron’s even heard you. And we know Snape is helping you.”

“That’s bloody rich.  _ Professor _ Snape isn’t helping me do anything than keep my sanity. I’m dealing with… It doesn’t even matter what I’m dealing with. I’m  _ not _ the Dark Lord’s damn servant.”

Harry realized as soon as he said it that he had made a tragic error. After spending so much time with Snape, Harry had worked to stop saying Voldemort in his presence to help keep everything straighter in Snape’s head. Most of the time Harry bounced easily between the phrases in his head but he hadn’t spoken Voldemort’s name out loud for months. A simple slip of the tongue. But to the vicious gang of Gryffindors surrounding him, Harry had just outed himself as a newly recruited Death Eater.

_ Worked so hard to keep that git safe when he got summoned so he didn’t uncover himself and just gone and gotten myself killed.  _

Ron spoke. The casual cruelty in his voice frightened Harry. “The Dark Lord? Maybe we ought to kill you for ‘im.”

In a last-ditch effort, Harry said, “Hermione, Ron, dammit! You can’t listen to Dumbledore. You can’t! He… He isn’t…” It was as far as Harry got before everyone pounced on him. 

Drawing his wand quickly, he began casting soft hexes and “stupefy” in various directions, knowing some landed but most missed. Quickly, hands began grasping for his wand and he was forced to shove it down a side pocket of his pants as he squirmed out of the death grip of the hands on his shoulders. 

_ I’ve got to move. Get out of here before they- _

A fist connected with his ribs and several more made contact with his torso.

_ Before they do that. _

The hits were awkward at first but grew into a crescendo as he lazily cast wandless magic over his shoulder. One set of knuckles ignited pain so badly in his back he was sure his kidney had exploded into a million tiny pieces. But he pushed on, still not toppled over as he moved towards the exit which suddenly seemed incredibly far away.

Harry’s natural magic combined with his paltry shields with wandless magic deflected most of the spells without his say so, Harry thanked whatever gods that be for that, but the fists and feet were another matter. Having been on the receiving end of Vernon and Dudley for too many years, Harry was not accustomed to fighting, only to taking a beating. In the back of his head, he remembered Ron once saying only cowardly wizards fought with their hands. But that didn’t matter now. He laughed to himself through the pain, realizing that he was being beaten by cowardly Grryfindors in Gryffindor Tower.

_ Cosmic humour. _

Wild hands grabbed at his hair while feet kicked at his legs and knees. The combination of the two moves sent him crashing to his knees while several strong hands yanked him around by his hair. His green eyes, dilated with terror looked on as the exit was moved further and further away. Scrabbling at the hands buried in his hair, Harry felt skin pile up under his fingernails, and eventually, the hand withdrew. Immediately, the rest of the hands were on him, pushing him to the ground and closing in on him. 

Then, suddenly there was the sound of tearing rising above the insults. Thrashing wildly, Harry rolled onto his back to see the hoard of Gryffindors blot out the light from the room. Something glinted wildly and sliced off a chunk of fabric from his lower leg, he watched a crimson river rise in its wake. Harry felt several panicked breaths freeze in his throat as he realized several of the boys had knives. A hand on his crotch and his belt was gone. 

For the second time that year, Harry thought he was going to die.

The belt slapped across his back as he rolled over, the buckle leaving angry red welts wherever it kissed him. He squinted hard and swallowed his screams just as he had with Vernon. Two hands grabbed his arse and made to tear open the back of his pants. With a rough shout, Harry bucked out of their grasp and turned to look at them, a dangerous spell on his lips. As he rounded on the fellow lion, the belt clapped against his brow bone as it swung towards the initial target of his head. Stars erupted across his vision as his skin split. For a moment, Harry lay still with his hands cupping the swelling eye absolutely sure he’d lost it. Hot blood gushed down his face. Crimson droplets dripped from his eyelashes like tears. Taking his bloody hand away from his eyes, the last thing he saw out of his left eye was the pinched face of Ron as he laughed. 

Harry was simply glad his eye was still uninjured in the socket.

Several more thwacks from the belt landed before it hit another Gryffindor and was promptly yanked away. Harry heard it clatter just outside the horde of students bickering amongst themselves about the belt. The slight pause in the assault was all Harry needed to slip out their grasp. All of the pain from the assault fled beneath the adrenaline pumping as he scrambled to his feet and ran. Stars burst across his vision as Ginny tackled him to the floor. His head clacked against the marble. As the stars left his vision, he frantically looked around for the exit, even as the Gryffindors pulled him over again. Hr felt a nimble hand slinking up his leg, looking for his wand. 

Before he could do anything about it the sick glint Harry saw earlier returned spectacularly as it jumped across his abdomen leaving a crimson canyon behind it. This time Harry’s face tightened, his veins popped, and Harry opened his mouth as he let out a feral scream. All the Gryffindors took a step away from Harry as he writhed, all except Ginny who kept looking for the wand.

Pulling his wand from his pants and clutching it to his chest, Harry kicked Ginny in the face and winced as she screamed. But he had already lost his advantage. Feet and hands continued to bombard his body as he crawled, dripping a story of red, towards the exit. As he fought to his feet to exit the dorms, something hard cracked against his head as he started to stand and the world swayed. Sharp lines of pain raced across his arms and belly as he watched the Gryffindor students tilt from side to side. Vaguely realizing that he was about to be pounced on again, Harry thought up a plan. He’d scare them.

Spinning on his heel, he said, “Fine. Fine! I  _ am _ working for Voldemort. You want proof?” He lifted his wand, aiming it at no one in particular knowing it wouldn't work beyond a stunt, and screamed “Crucio!” Every Gryffindor leapt back as Harry tumbled through the exit. He noticed as he left, Hermione was screaming terribly. He had managed to hit her.

_ And mean it, _ he thought.

But still, Harry managed to escape from the violence, falling to both knees and leaving skin behind on the stone floor as he tore his pants. Hermione suffering or not, he had to get away. Running down the stairs and heading for the dungeon, Harry dodged the magic as various Gryffindors pointed their wands towards him. Slipping and falling down the last two steps as a well-aimed book hit his foot, Harry felt a sickening crack in his nose as he hit the stone. Warm blood ran down his face. Ignoring the hot blood gushing into his mouth and down his chin, he gripped his wand harder, erecting barriers as he went. 

_ Snape’s. Snape. Please, please be back. Snape...I... _

The thundering footsteps followed him well into the dungeons. Harry ran in circles, until he smacked directly in Draco.

“Bloody hell! Watch where… Harry?”

“Draco, please. Ron and Hermione and the Gryffindors...” Harry felt two firm hands grab his arms as he started to sway.

“What happened to you?”

“The Gryffindors." 

"Harry, you're covered in blood." He nodded thickly but was warmed by the genuine concern. "Hang on."

A pale blue dragon curled into the air, lancing Draco with a steeled stare as it listened to the message it was to take to all of Slytherin.

"I can heal-" Several hexes lit up the edge of the hallway. Draco shoved himself in front of Harry, wand out and ready.

Harry said, "You don't have time."

"Okay. Tell me what happened. Quick."

"They think you and I are Death Eaters. They said Snape-” Harry cut himself off as a bolt of pain shocked through his brow bone. The world went sideways and he was sure he was going to pass out and die there. But then Draco's free arm wrapped around Harry and pulled him close. When the pain subsided, he opened his eyes to see silver staring back at him.

“Get to Snape. I’ll take care of them. But be bloody quick about it. Snape would kill me if I you bleed out here.”

Harry nodded and kept running, passing several other Slytherins who were more than happy to help him avoid his attackers. Blaise went so far as to help him hobble down a few hallways. As he ran, he thanked Snape’s forethought of Harry befriending the Slytherins. These dungeons really had become his home.

Screams echoed down the hallways and occasional flashes of light exploded nearby, guiding his way back to Snape’s. He could still hear Hermione crying out though he realized that was impossible. The painting appeared out of the corner of his vision and he quickly whispered the password before diving over the threshold. Chest heaving, Harry panted as he blinked with his good eye. 

Bleeding from many lacerations and swollen all over his body, Harry clutched his head and began to cry.

Harry began to unbutton his robes with shaking hands, watching as drops of blood stained the white shirt and grimacing at all the sections cut up as if he’d fought a paper shredder. Shrugging the robes off, he looked down at the white dress shirt. One of his shirttails had been yanked free in the commotion. The shirt was wrinkled and torn beyond repair. And worse, Snape had bought him these. Harry desperately tried to smooth out the fabric regardless of its state.

Dismally realizing his robes were probably torn as well, Harry continued looking at himself. Licking his lips and tasting iron, Harry pressed a hand against the long bloodstain seeping into the white shirt. He didn’t want to look. He pulled his hand away bloody.

Shuffling towards the kitchen, Harry grabbed a towel. Wetting it under the sink, he fell back to the floor of the living room as his legs gave way. The world spun again and Harry felt a terrible nausea creeping up on him. The taste of iron agitated his senses and overwhelmed his mind. The spot in his side was slowly pulsing blood and began to truly ache.

_ They were going to kill me. Really, truly kill me. But why? Oh gods, I can’t believe it. Dumbledore… Has he… Has he figured a way to defeat Voldemort without me? _

Harry’s green eyes looked up in terror when he heard footsteps coming through the wall. Wand raised and a terrified wildness in Harry’s eyes, Severus was in for a surprise as he came through the wall.

Looking down at the blood at his feet then up to see Harry, bloody and ready to kill with his shirt open, Snape rushed over to Harry.

“Harry.”

Severus snatched his wand away. Surprisingly, Harry let him. The strong arms scooped Harry up and held him to his chest as he raced towards the potions lab. Harry felt his pants flutter in the breeze and realized he had been completely mauled. 

He watched as Snape laid him on the table but didn’t expect the cushioning charm to already be in place. A soft sigh puffed out from his lips. The cushioning charm felt nice against the battered skin. Then, delicate fingers brushed across the bloody face. Out of his good eye, Harry watched the obsidian eyes take in his appearance. They settled on the gash in his abdomen and the wand he’d watch duel against him so many times angled downwards and closed up the wound. The dark eyes held storms in them, flashes of lightning illuminating the blackness as he took in Harry’s beaten form.

“Harry.”

_ Second time the bugger’s used my name like that. Must look like a wreck. _

The hand left his face and peeled the shirt from his wounds. Harry hissed at the pain. Two cool hands settled on his abdomen and Harry practically arched into the kind touch. Looking back towards Snape, Harry was shocked to find genuine hurt and fear in those dark eyes and unreadable face. It wrinkled up his forehead, turned his eyebrows high with worry. It even pulled his lips into a disgusted sneer. There was glass glittering in the eyes. 

_ He looks like he’s going to cry. _

“Harry.”

Harry blinked slowly, the light suddenly bothering him. He closed his eye with a groan. He felt the gentle lap of Snape’s magic rush over his body now and again as spells and salves were rubbed into his skin. Despite the pain, Harry enjoyed the warmth of Snape’s closeness and the cushioning charm seemed to only get softer the longer he lay. Harry focused on the nimble fingers taking away the pain, adeptly working to keep Harry safe. His breathing slowed as the adrenaline wore off, calmed down by the occasional puff of breath blowing across his bare skin. 

The talented fingers brushed against his collarbone as they pressed the shirt off him. They moved across his chest and rubbed salve into every bruise. Harry felt heady from the contact but his lust lay dormant beneath a terrible throbbing in his head. The nimble fingers worked their way down his body, focusing for a long time on his legs. 

When his right eye opened again, the room had dimmed considerably and Severus had both his sleeves rolled up. Sweat beaded up in small dots along his forehead. The concerned worry in his eyes had been replaced with fierce concentration. Snape’s wand moved in mesmerizing motions as his lips wrapped around incantations that calmed Harry’s throbbing body. Harry smiled at all the potions and salves floating around the Potions Master.

_ In his natural habitat. Must’ve been my imagination though, bugger doesn’t look like he’s crying now. I can be- _

A sudden wave of pain erupted from his brow bone and Harry felt his mouth opening to release a sob. The soft touch of the thin hand was brushing Harry’s wild hair out of his bloodied face. Harry screamed and cried, looking straight into the dark orbs until Snape’s magic and potions conquered the blast of pain. His eye closed again and Harry thought maybe Snape had had tears in his eyes after all. One hand rested against his forehead and Harry could feel that the swelling was decreasing. The other hand rested softly on his beating heart. Harry sighed. The weight on his chest eased some terror he didn’t realize he still harbored. The fluttering in his chest slowed to a steady rhythm as his cries quieted.

“Harry.”

The word was said more harshly, demanding an answer.

“I just needed my transfiguration assignment. I… I thought… I just… I...” Harry felt tears coming and the pressure from the sadness burned in his brain. The pain didn’t stop the tears. “‘M sorry. Made a mess of it.”

Yanking the towel from Harry’s hand, he sent it off to the sink. As Harry opened his mouth to speak another round of apologies, several potions were tipped into his mouth.

“Swallow. How did you end up like this?”

“Hermione and Ron. They talked to Dumbledore- ouch!” The hands grabbed Harry’s shoulders tightly and pulled him up into a seated position.

“Drink this. When you’ve finished, stand up.”

Harry eyed the green liquid before tipping the small vial back and swallowing. A pleasant warmth covered the rest of his small cuts and bruises. He felt as if someone had plugged in a christmas tree. Shakily, he lowered himself down to the floor, aware and thankful that Snape was several inches away from him.

Smiling up at Snape, Harry was about to exclaim victory when his knees buckled. Collapsing forward, Harry fell for a moment before the strong chest caught him and the long arms were wrapped around him. Harry stiffened, afraid he’d crossed some strange unspoken boundary until Snape’s head leaned against his own and the arms gently brought him closer. 

Snape was hugging Harry.

“You bloody fool.” 

Harry relaxed into the hug, giving in to the warm sensation coiling around him. He felt safe, protected from the ravenous horde of Gryffindors prowling the halls. 

Still hugging Harry gently to his chest, Snape said, "I have spelled that eye shut. You cracked your brow and nose. I doubt that eye needs any more strain at the moment. You had..." Snape stopped, the stoic voice beginning to break. "You had many injuries."

"I...that isn't too surprising."

_ “How _ did you end up like this?”

“I just…” Harry felt his throat getting tight with tears. 

The dark eyes were suddenly inches away, the nose dangerously close to Harry’s. Harry saw the soft innocence flit across them for a moment before they turned hard. “You were attempting to protect me.”

Harry nodded at the statement.

Snape sighed, looking thoroughly frustrated.

“Widen your legs and brace against the table.”

Harry did as he was told, weakly able to stand.

“Good.”

Snape dropped to his knees, mumbling something and an "accio". Several small bottles flew his way, one after another. Harry swallowed around a knot in his throat. 

_ I’m in underwear in front of a professor, who is Snape, who I fancy, after being beaten half to death by my friends. Merlin, I can’t do boring, can I? _

Trying to take his mind off the dark head of hair at crotch level, Harry asked, “Was the meeting bad?” 

“They are all bad.”

“I know. I was wondering…”

Snape’s breath ghosted across the patch of hair decorating Harry’s lower abdomen as he sighed again. Harry felt a pulse of want as he took in the Potions Master on his knees, in his own laboratory, inches away from Harry’s cock. Snape remained there in silence a moment longer, tending to the bloody knees. He gave special attention to the left knee, scrutinizing it a moment longer before softly shaking his head to himself.

“Can you stand now?”

Harry wobbled and winced, but nodded.

“I cannot make you perfect, but I presume you’ll live another day to be a thorn in my side.” Snape stood from the floor and peered down his nose at Harry, close enough that Harry couldn’t control his blush. “The meeting was abhorrently boring. We discussed…” Snape’s face twisted in disgust. “Dinner decorations.”

Harry found himself chuckling. “Really?”

“They had horrendous taste.”

Harry laughed harder, bracing himself on the table again as his knee threatened to buckle. Severus only glared down at him.

“You have phenomenal taste. Must have been torture for you.”

“Indeed.”

The laughter stopped and Harry looked out the door into the living room.

“They thought I was a Death Eater. Didn’t help myself any when I said I wasn’t the Dark Lord’s servant. Hermione just about died when she heard me call him that.”

Snape huffed again, placing a hand on Harry’s bare shoulder and Harry watched as a delicate blush colored the pale cheeks. Unsure of his own actions, Harry lifted his hands and placed them on either side of Snape’s hips. They stood that way, inches apart, for several moments. Snape peered down over his hooked nose, his hair framing his cheekbones and dark eyes. 

Pushing Harry’s hands off, he said, “Clean up, Harry. I believe we have both had a trying night. You should be able to walk. But _please_ do not get on that dreadful broom for awhile.”

Harry reached a hand out without realizing he was doing so, and placed it softly on Snape's side as he said, "I'll try."

Then Snape vanished out of the laboratory, wiggling a finger underneath his collar as he did so.

Harry trudged off to the bathroom and slipped under the stream of warm water. It pushed the soap bubbles from his skin and he began to feel very tired. The emotional toll of the evening had broken him down more than the physical though he was sure the healing his body was still going through would not do anything to energize him. A part of him felt disgusted for feeling so turned on despite the situation he'd found himself in. 

He laughed dryly. _Punishment is I don't think I can really do anything tonight. Probably would bloody pass out._

Drying himself off and tugging on a pair of pajama bottoms, Harry walked out to his room. He hesitated. Something hung in the air around him, it buzzed. Harry thought very hard for a moment. Biting his lip, knowing he was about to be defiant, Harry snagged his invisibility cloak and spelled himself with a notice-me-not charm and cracked open the door to Snape’s room. He was sure that something was up to something. Intent on sneaking off to the study see what Snape would be researching after his meeting with Voldemort, Harry gently pushed open the door.

_ It’s got to be big if it’s causing this much magical fuss. What could be so big that… Oh, Merlin. _

His breath caught his breath in his throat as he slunk unnoticed into the room.

Snape had kicked the covers to the foot of the bed and was lying in a puddle of moonlight and dark sheets. His skin nearly glowed against the black silk underneath him. Harry swallowed as he watched Severus trail a hand down his belly, through a dark patch of hair. Jutting proudly from the dark mass of hair was Snape’s cock, tip glistening with beads of precum beneath the moonlight. The long hand wrapped itself around the cock slick with lube. The hand started slowly, the thumb smearing precum across the head. Harry watched the abs tighten as Severus twisted his hand.

_ He’s gorgeous. Merlin, he’s gorgeous. _

Harry watched Snape’s mouth open and close, watched his teeth sink into the pink flesh of his lower lip. 

_ Bugger’s got a silencing charm up.  _

But as he watched Severus grow closer to his release, Harry was able to discern one word on his lips just a moment before he tensed and shot ropes of come across his chest.

“Harry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry this chapter is coming so late today, it is still Wednesday though! The election business over here had me pretty stressed out most of the last few days so my editing took a hit.
> 
> Regardless, here you go!
> 
> As always, tell me guys what you think. All the comments and kudos are appreciated :) It's another rough day for these two but...maybe not so rough considering the happy ending. ha. ha. The next couple of chapters are fluffier so look forward to it! :D


	12. A Night With You

Severus was tired. Albus had caught wind of  _ something _ and moved the dance ahead by a full month. Instead of mere nights left to wait, Harry and the Slytherins had to wait an additional month. Luckily, the weeks passed by quickly as they were chalked full of strange happenings. Harry had been moved permanently down to the dungeons after he had nearly been eviscerated in Gryffindor Tower. While he had not undergone an official resorting, he wore a strange combination of his Gryffindor robes and several hand-me-down Slytherin ones. He ate at the Slytherin table, joked in their common room, and went for walks around the lake with Draco.

All while Snape desperately hid his new creation away from the rest of the world. If that wasn’t enough, Severus had extrapolated that if Albus was willing to risk Harry’s life like that, he must have the shaky beginnings of a back-up plan to kill the Dark Lord. And so Severus began his own research to see if he could conjure up something dark enough to destroy the slimy bastard. All in all, Severus was exhausted. 

The end of the Hogwarts school year rapidly approached and he had yet to find a way for Harry to stay out of harm’s way and out of that house though he had solved the sudden issue of Harry’s friends being placed under the Imperius. Grimmauld Place was the most likely home for Harry, but Severus continued to run into problem after problem with both Albus and Gringotts. He had schemed, plotted, and hexed for the past six months in an effort to keep Harry away from the Dursleys. The only thing he managed was the tightening of the noose around his neck from both Albus and the Dark Lord.

Pouring another glass of firewhiskey down his throat, he set his glass on the empty table. Glancing over to the muggle clock, Snape growled to himself as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back until it touched the firm fabric of the couch. That he had not yet figured out a way for Harry to be out of the Dursley residence aggravated him to no end. Part of him hoped he would be able to discover how he could conquer the Dark Lord because then Harry wouldn't need to stay at that home for the sake of the blood wards. The only thing aggravating him more was that he could not figure out why or when Harry had become so important to him.

He stretched languidly on the couch as a particular memory came to mind of an exceptionally heated Order meeting at the Burrow that had sent Snape storming out of the house with everyone suspecting he'd killed Lupin. He hadn’t intended to pout, but pout he did. Snape smiled softly as he recalled sitting on the back stoop of the house, elbows on his knees and chin in his hands wondering why everyone still questioned him regardless of how many times he proved his loyalty. 

Potter had walked out with tea and said, “Knut for your thoughts?”

_ Yes, I had wanted to hex him, even drew my wand but that Gryffindor stood there, holding out tea for me. With honey. Brat knew I took no sugar but  _ **_thought_ ** _ , so he claimed, I could use something sweet. _

“I really thought you were going to kill Molly for what she said about you and Black and Lupin.”

Snape snorted. “She has no tact, that woman.”

“No,” Harry laughed. “None at all.” The laughter stopped and Harry became grave. “She doesn’t know. Not really, never listens. I guess no one does, huh? Everyone forgets that my dad and his friends were a bunch of dickheads."

Quietly, Snape mumbled, “Language, Potter” but his heart wasn’t in it.

Snape watched the renegade tea leaves gather at the bottom of his cup. The chill of the night crept around them and Snape remembered feeling strangely grateful for Harry’s company. Molly had insisted that Snape forfeit the memories surrounding Sirius’s untimely death as well as those involving Lupin. She had even screamed in that terribly shrill voice she used on the twins that Severus ought to give up his boyhood memories of the boys as well. Snape shuddered. That was not something he had wanted to talk about ever again. Worse, he knew she was pushing for a motive to find him guilty of a crime he did not commit.

Looking down at the tea he mumbled, "I didn't kill the wolf."

"I know."

"He was ill."

"I know."

Snape sighed, tears pricking his vision. He and Remus had become friends after his rather boisterous return to Hogwarts. His death hurt Severus. "I was attempting to concoct a potion to heal him."

"I _know_. He wasn't the same after Sirius died." Harry tittered nervously. "I miss him too. He was special, wasn't he?"

Snape nodded and titled his teacup, watching the leaf particles shift from one side to the other as he cocked his head.

"He was tolerable."

"High praise." 

Snape looked over and found no trace of humour in the green eyes. They were watching him, examining his reaction. He looked back down to his cup. The two sat in somber silence. Even the land surrounding them was still.

Then Harry sighed loudly. “I won’t let her, you know. Not that you need uh...protecting. But I uh...voiced my opinion on the matter. Popped a couple of glasses with that crazy troublesome temper of mine.” He nudged at Snape before clearing his throat. “Anyway, you don’t have to _surrender_ your memories. Molly backed off after the Chosen One had spoken. Those memories are yours.”

Harry rubbed at the back of his neck. Snape smiled at the memory. At the time, he had found it endearing. 

_ Perhaps that was the beginning of it then.  _ Snape snorted in his chair with his eyes still closed.  _ Of course, it was. I’ve seen plenty of that mannerism now. Enough to know it remains endearing.  _ Severus chose to ignore how happy it had made him to know someone out there saw him, his loyalties, and even defended him. 

He looked back on that night with fondness. The warmth of the tea seemed to have seeped into his bones. He remembered looking at the fingers stained purple that day from some experimental potion. He could have fought against the warmth Harry had given him, but he didn’t. Instead, when Harry scooched closer to him and the very outside of their cloaks touched, Snape smiled to himself. He welcomed the quiet, soft company of this Harry, the Harry he hadn’t known yet.  __

“Mr. Potter,” Snape drawled. “Are you protecting me?”

He could feel the wizard stiffen. But then Harry laughed. “Don’t tell anyone.” 

“I would never think of it.”

_ I was hysterical that night when I returned back to Hogwarts. Minerva had the audacity to tell me that the boy wasn’t his father after all. But he wasn’t his mother either. She never stood up for people she cared about, not like Potter did that night. Yes, that was the night it began. When Harry Sodding Potter decided to stand in my corner.  _

Standing up, Snape shuffled off to the kitchen to rummage through his liquor cabinet. After finding an untouched bourbon, he grabbed his drink and reclined on the couch after a large stretch. He straightened his long, lean legs out with a contented hum and rested his drink in his lap. Staring off towards Harry’s bedroom door, which was now adorned in a crown of snitches, Severus thought back to the night he found Harry bloody on his floor.

Severus had had a particularly trying night at the hands of the Dark Lord. He had sneered for the umpteenth time as some nobodies brought out an array of plates to choose from for the dinner while Harry was being attacked. Snape could have killed them all in a fit, but he grit his teeth and dealt with the atrocious plates drowning in tulips. At the time he knew they thought him foolish, ignorant that something was happening outside of the meeting. Besides that, his blood burned at having to look at decoration after decoration that clashed. The Dark Lord was purposely antagonizing him.

Snape knew something was wrong with Harry, could feel it ache in his bones. But he kept a straight face and calmly disapproved of all the decorations and design choices they presented him all while steadying his heart. Harry would be fine. He was a bratty Gryffindor with a temper, he would escape anything terrible thrown his way. Revealing his true emotions to the Dark Lord was exactly the purpose of this meeting he was sure. He refused to slip up.

That notion didn’t do anything to slow Severus down however when he was finally released from the meeting.

He stormed through the hallways of Hogwarts but as he entered his dungeons, he nearly came to a full stop. Scorch marks marred the gorgeous stone columns and chunks of the floor were missing. Even as he stood, debris and silt tumbled onto his head from the ceiling. Erecting basic spells to keep the dungeons safe, Snape took off, nearly running when he almost collided into Blaise Zabini, limping slowly down the hallway.

“Professor Snape.” Blaise nodded his head.

Snape dropped his hand on the boy’s shoulder and stopped him. Blaise stiffened beneath the tight grip of the long fingers. “Mr. Zabini, you are limping.”

“Yes sir, fell over my robes.”

“Is that so? Did the walls singe themselves then?”

“No, Professor.” Zabini shifted more weight onto his good leg. “Have you seen Draco?”

“I have not. Do explain, Mr. Zabini.”

“Well just… It was the Gryffindors, sir. They were after Harry. Draco, he took on an awful lot of them on by himself and Weasley was looking pissed. His patronus called the Slytherins up and by the time I got here, he was shoving Harry onto me. I took him as far as I could but… But there were a lot of Gryffindors.” Blaise looked down at his feet. 

“All those bloody Gryffindors charging down here like it's theirs, shooting blindly after Harry. Don’t mind Harry too much, Draco was right about him. He’s not bad, really. Fits right in. But I hate the rest of those sodding useless Gryffindors.” Standing up straighter and smoothing a hand over his robes, he looked Snape in the eyes. “Only took about twenty of us Slytherin to scare them out of here.”

“Is that so?”

“Yessir. Should have seen Draco, Professor. Heard that he was the one who found Potter. Harry, I mean.”

Snape removed his hand. “See that you tend to that leg, Mr. Zabini.”

“Yessir.”

“And Mr. Zabini?”

“Yes, Professor?”

“If I am not mistaken, you are capable of producing a patronus. If you find Mr. Malfoy, inform me immediately."

“Yessir.” Blaise limped in the direction of Madam Pomfrey. Severus watched him go with a sense of dread burning in his stomach. 

Turning his attention back to his own route, he stalked closer to his rooms, thankful for his long legs and his quick pace. Along the way, he ran into the other Slytherin, all in fair condition but clearly suffering from battle. Goyle had been hit with several nasty hexes and was nearly unrecognizable if not for Crabbe who had been leading him towards the infirmary. Severus felt his heart hammering in his chest as he looked down and saw streaks of blood lining the hallway. His mind chanted _Harry_ like a lifeline, as if so long as he repeated that name, Harry would be all right. His cape swung out to the right as he turned left into the hallway leading to his quarters.

And there was Draco slumped up against the wall, with his blonde head hung low. Draco who was bloody, bruised, and whose left hand was completely deformed. Draco whose shoulders were shaking and whose pale face was stained with a collection of blood and dirt. Draco who was clearly pushed beyond his limits, but who sat with his wand in hand. The approach of Snape’s footsteps jerked Draco’s head and wand up. The silver eyes were nearly all pupils as he wildly stared at Snape for a moment. His hair stuck up at odd angles, covered in dirt and blood. The wand quickly lowered. The body sagged in relief as Draco's pupils shrunk slightly. 

“Sir.”

“Mr. Malfoy.” Snape had no idea how to go about this, whatever  _ this _ was. “Has there been a war in my dungeons?”

To his surprise, Draco nodded and said, “Just about." He wiped the back of his good hand across his eyes taking the shimmery evidence of fear with him. "Harry is in there and he's hurt." 

Snape took several steps closer but before he could ask Draco anything, Draco said, " With all due respect, I need to get going to the hospital wing.” He held up his crippled hand. “Ginny got me. Harry can fill you in on what happened. I found him. He was _hurt,_ Snape, and I didn’t have the password.” There was venom in the smooth voice.

Hoisting himself up with great effort, Draco began to limp off towards the hospital wing. Stopping just to the side of Snape, his eyes looked forward and said, “Give me the password, Professor.” He commanded him with all the Malfoy air he could muster. But it was the terrified look in those eyes that softened Snape.

“I will be changing it tomorrow to ‘Godric’.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Draco’s lips tightened.

“No more needs to be said, Draco. I will tend to Harry.”

With that Draco hustled off, leaving Snape to look at a massive streak of blood below the painting.

Walking through the wall, he took in another, larger pile of blood. Snapping his head upright, he was met with a terrible sight. Harry Potter, sitting on the floor with fear decorating the green eyes and a wand pointed directly at him. The wand trembled. Severus distinctly remembered the feeling of his stomach drop as he took in the gash lining his abdomen and the ugly, swollen eye. Harry’s lips were split, his nose clearly broken, and dark bruises painted every ounce of exposed skin. All his clothes were torn and his hair matted down with blood.

Severus shivered on the couch as he remembered thinking for a moment that Harry was dead and his ghost had come back to haunt him. That was twice in one year that Harry nearly scared Severus to death. Severus was tired of teetering on the edge of losing something so dear to him.

“Hey, dinner on?”

It had been several weeks, but Harry still walked with a slight limp and favored his good knee. He still looked at the Gryffindors with a fire blazing in his eyes. He understood that Albus had been manipulating his friends, and he couldn’t argue with that, but Snape could see how much it sickened Harry to be around them knowing they would try to capture him at any moment. The golden trio it seemed, had suffered irreparable damage. 

Snape absently shook his head in sympathy. This situation was almost too much to bear, even for a strong young man like Harry.

He knew Harry spent his time with the Slytherins. Severus was beyond pleased that he had thought to call in Draco to recruit the rest of the Slytherins since, as it turned out, it most likely saved Harry’s life that night. Something inside him smiled everytime he walked into the common room to find Harry laying back on a sofa cracking jokes with fellow Slytherin.

The other Slytherins had taken Harry in easily after that incident. He ate at their table, partnered up with them, and spent his free time in their common room. They accepted him gleefully, most likely excited to be able to despise the Gryffindors’ disloyalty to their own. It had surprised Severus as he was certain their parents would not have approved of their new friend, but the students didn’t seem to mind, after all, they were only following Draco. Draco, who had nearly been killed in that fight. Draco who, no matter how much Snape tried to figure out, surprised him by nearly giving his life to protect Harry. He rubbed a tired hand down his face. 

_ I must be losing my touch. It seems everything is surprising me these days. _

“Dinner? I heard they had steak and potatoes in the Hall. You like that a lot, right?”

_ It must be something in that brat’s blood. First I nearly give my life for the brat and now Draco. _

But Severus knew it was different. Draco, he could already see, was thrilled to have a friend. A real friend who challenged him and understood the amount of suffering closed doors could hide. The Malfoy heir underwent his own struggles only he didn't have the same support system gathered around him. The world wanted him to be wicked. But Harry didn't buy into it. He saw through the facade and offered friendship to the wizard. Friendship to someone as pained and lonely as Draco easily translated into a warped life-debt.

As for Severus, that was another beast entirely. He hissed softly.  _ I’m in love with him _ . Harry had changed so much in the past several months. As it turned out, sleep and food did the wizard a world of good. Denying his attraction grew harder by the day. 

Sometime in the last few months, Harry’s shoulders had broadened and he had put on a fair bit of muscle. His jaw had sharpened and his eyes no longer held the witless daze they used to. He looked like a man, the type of man Severus could respect. Harry would be turning seventeen shortly and come of age in the magical world, but it did not stop Snape’s moral dilemma. At the end of the day, when Snape slipped into bed, he dreamt of Harry. Fucking him, waking next to him, holding him, and missing the time spent next with him. It frightened Severus. It terrified him how much he would miss Harry when this school year ended. And after the war? After Hogwarts? Snape knew he was losing him.

_ Optimism Severus? Do you believe you could survive this war and have him?  _ A soft, scared voice said,  _ Yes. _

_ Such a strange year this has been.  _ Severus downed the last of his bourbon, setting the empty glass on his thigh.  _ I would never have believed that the son of James Potter would turn out to be something of a gift to me. _

“Snape!”

Severus jerked in shock as his glass careened towards the floor. Harry’s quick magic caught it in time.

“Merlin! When did you get here?”

“A half-hour ago. Where the hell have you been?”

Snape looked down at his glass. “I am unsure.”

“You okay?”

There were those emeralds, bearing down on him. Severus found himself replying before Occluding. “No.”

“N-no?” Harry looked shocked but immediately scurried over to Snape. “What’s the matter?”

This close to those brilliant eyes Snape just stared. “I...was lost in thought. I apologize.”

“What’s  _ wrong? _ ”

Severus never took chances but as he stared at his empty lap, he gambled. Barely above a whisper he said, “I will miss you.”

They sat in stillness for a moment before Harry nodded.

“Are we eating dinner? I’ve asked three times.”

“Of course. You may call Dobby.” Severus stood and walked towards the kitchen, wondering how much bourbon he’d had to already be dizzy. “Anything to drink?”

“Whatever made  _ you _ spacey, please.”

Snape huffed. Slowly though, he grabbed another glass. "Water then?"

“Today sucked, don’t give me that. You saw Ron try to sabotage my potion.” Severus turned around with two alcoholic drinks in hand and was floored by what he saw. Harry was red in the face angry and spouting off about potions. “Idiot didn’t even realize that if he had added that many scarab beetles  _ uncrushed _ the whole room would have blown up. And his hands were all grubby with the powder of something I’m very sure he should not have needed for that skele-gro potion.”

_ Yes, I will miss this.  _ Snape felt himself smiling as he handed Harry the drink. 

“Liquor for your trouble.”

Harry waved him off as he plopped onto the couch. 

“It’s small, I know. But if he wants to be an Auror he can’t just be doing that. A mistake like that wouldn’t just blow up a classroom and get everyone covered in gunk. It would kill your partner and the people you wanted to save.”

Half-whispering into his cup Snape said, “Ah, from Slytherin to Gryffindor in a breath. How  _ did _ the hat place you?”

“That’s not funny. It didn’t know how.” Severus arched an eyebrow as he nursed his drink. Harry said, “It said I had qualities of both. I just didn’t want to be Slytherin.”

“What a courageous choice.”

Harry glared at him but sipped on the bourbon, first grimacing and then smiling. Snapping his fingers, he called Dobby up and mumbled something quietly, looking over to Snape as he did so. Severus shifted under the scrutiny of two bright pairs of eyes staring at him. Dobby vanished quickly. 

“I’m tired of everyone coming after me. You know?”

Severus nodded. “Too well, I’m afraid.”

“I can’t believe Dumbeldore-”

Snape held up his hand, silencing Harry. “I will not miss  _ that _ aspect of our conversations.”

“No, me neither. I don’t own this couch you know.”

Snape’s eyebrows twitched. Of course, Harry didn't own the couch, Snape did. The lip began to lift in a sneer to cover his confusion when Harry laughed.

“Don’t give me that. I’m just saying, we can both sit on it, you twit.”

“Is that an invitation?”

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes, emphatically patting the space beside him. Severus hesitated but the aggressive patting turned into slapping and with an annoyed snort he joined Harry on the couch. As he settled down, he did not expect Harry to cozy up to him. The mop of dark hair rested against his shoulder and before he knew it, he had draped a languid arm across Harry’s shoulders.

They were quiet for a time, their small bits of conversation flowing idly from subject to subject. Nearly an hour in, Severus was fully melted into the couch enjoying the thick haze the liquor gave him and the feet placed in his lap. He hardly noticed he was rubbing Harry’s feet. The conversation had moved in a different direction and Snape found he was freely laughing with Harry.

“No, no. I’ve got one better,” Harry laughed loudly, the feet bouncing on Snape’s thighs. “Minerva  _ in all pink _ .” 

Harry’s red cheeks watched for a moment, calculating whether or not the joke landed. Severus saw the glint in the green eyes and was about to refuse to give into Harry’s joke when a loud bubbling laugh erupted from his throat. 

“Harry, Merlin, Harry...you never ordered dinner, did you?”

“No!” Harry shouted, breaking into hysterical laughter again.

Snape snapped his fingers. Dobby arrived, blue eyes immediately crinkling with a shy smile.

“How can Dobby help Master Snape?”

“Dobby, Harry and I…” Snape stifled his chuckle and tossed the feet from his lap. “Dinner, please. I will have steak and potatoes. Harry will have the same with fruit and a treacle tart. Thank you.”

“Can Dobby get Master Snape anything else?”

Snape rolled his fingers together in thought. “Yes.” He leaned in closely. “Are you able to contact my house-elf Silvas?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Have her apparate my muggle collection of film here. I will transfigure the rest. Thank you, Dobby.”

The blue eyes widened at the use of the house-elf’s first name. “It is my pleasure, Master Snape.”

The little elf threw himself around Harry in a strange hug before leaping off and apparating mid-air. Snape stood and began walking towards the table.

“That is the strangest elf I have ever met.”

“No kidding. You know, last week he popped in just to tell me he  _ likes  _ you.”

“Did he?” Snape managed to sound completely disinterested. 

“Yeah. Said it was important I know that you’re treating him well. Think he has me bloody confused with Hermione.”

Snape hummed in agreement. A healthy serving of food appeared on the table.

“Our meal has arrived.”

The onyx eyes lingered on Harry’s form as he stalked towards the food with a glint in his eye. Behind him, a collection of movies popped up on the floor. Snape’s lips quirked up in a smile

_ I am certain he will appreciate this. After the conversation about Muggle experiences… His relatives would not have given him this. _

Harry sat down heavily, earning a scowl and snide remark from Snape but merely smiled and began to dig into his food.

Admittedly, even Snape sat down more heavily than he would have liked. He was more inebriated than he had expected. The food went a long way to absorb the alcohol, but he was pleasantly exhausted. Snape had finished his moderate portion of food and leaned back in his chair, now drinking wine as he watched Harry hoover up the food. 

_ Perhaps after Hogwarts, he will entertain the idea of friendship.  _ He chided himself.  _ That optimism again. Do not forget, Severus, you won’t survive this. _

Severus watched Harry smile at him around a mouthful of food.

_ At the very least, he knows I do not enjoy the Dark Lord’s company. _ A snarky voice quipped, _He knows a lot more than that._ Severus snorted to himself.  _ He knows I...I **would** at the very least.  _ It was dangerous territory, those thoughts. But Severus couldn't help himself. He didn't have to say the words. Knowing that Harry understand Severus would love him was enough.

“Hogwarts always has the best food,” Harry said.

“It hardly makes up for the company.”

Harry laughed. “Don’t change.”

“Don’t tell me you  _ enjoy _ this?”

“Bloody love it.” Harry’s face went red as he served himself another piece of treacle tart. “I just mean that you’re good company. The bite is good. Refreshing. It wouldn’t be you if you were  _ nice. _ I-”

“Don’t want me to change. Yes, I gathered. Unlike some at this table, I do not need things repeated to me.”

Harry rolled his eyes. But soon, Snape noticed, the emeralds lowered back down to the food. Instead of eating it, he began pushing it around the plate. Harry did many things, but push and pick at his food was not one of them.  _ Perhaps… I should not have insulted his intelligence.  _ Severus thought back to the night he had held Harry on the floor of his bathroom.

“Is something the matter?”

“No, no.” Harry scowled at the dessert. “Well, I just, I’ll miss this too.”

“Yes, the desserts are...delectable.”

“No. Not that. I’ll miss that but  _ this. _ ” Harry waved his fork around the room. “I’ll miss this place. You.” 

Snape’s throat tightened. “Me?” He didn’t intend the crack in his voice or the way it danced higher up than normal.

“Well, yeah. You didn’t think I was staying here because it smells nice did you? I mean, it does. But it’s not just the place, Snape.”

The pale cheeks flushed with heat as he swallowed around the understanding that Harry actually enjoyed his company. 

Harry continued. “It’s nice here.” He shoved the piece of dessert into his mouth. “Homey.”

“Indeed.”

A cocksure grin rose on Harry’s face and a distinct nervousness fluttered in Snape’s stomach.

“Not clear enough for you, innit? Snape, I  _ like _ living with you here.”

This time, Severus was shocked into silence. Harry laughed and finished eating his treat. When he set his fork down, a somber expression pulled the features into stillness. Severus breathed in a deep lungful of air as Harry crossed his arms on the table and bowed his head. If Severus didn’t know better, he would say that this sixteen-year-old wizard looked more like a thirty-year-old man ravaged by the pains of life. 

When Harry spoke, his voice was ragged, tight with sadness. “Please, don’t say anything.” Pain swallowed Harry’s words and the knuckles gripping his elbows went white. “This is my home. I always thought Hogwarts felt like home, what I thought it was supposed to feel like but this…  _ This _ is what home feels like. I...I’ve never had that before.

“It isn’t just the bedroom. It isn’t how the couch fits me right or how there’s a red chair in your study. It’s all of it...none of it.” Harry’s jaw twitched. “It’s  _ you _ . I’ve never had a home because no one cared enough. I just...just wanted to thank you. And…”

The hands gripped impossibly tighter when, all of a sudden, the green eyes snapped to look up at Snape. Wide and pleading, full of wet sorrow, the eyes begged. Harry said, “I know you don’t think you’ll survive this war. But...if…” Harry worried his lower lip before continuing. “If you find yourself in a position where you could give up or fight… I’d like…” Harry’s grip relaxed and Severus knew that he had won the battle over his fear. “I’d like if you fought.”

Severus’s throat was dry. “I won’t die easily, Harry.”

“I don’t want you to die at all.” Tears began to silently spillover. Harry wiped them away furiously. “You aren’t allowed to die, Severus Snape. I…” Harry looked off to the side. “I don’t like a world without you. Okay?”

Snape sat, quietly breathing for a moment. Then, he thought the words he'd forbidden.  _ I would love you, Harry. After Hogwarts. I would never let you feel this way, alone. You, of all people, deserve loneliness the least. I would love you. _

Baring himself, he leaned forward and touched the side of Harry’s arm. He said, “All right, Harry.” When he removed his hand, the last traces of red sadness were clearing from Harry’s eyes.

Snape cleared his throat and said, “I am going to change. I suggest you do the same. I have something I think you may like to see.”

Harry waggled his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“No, you little wretch. Something muggle.”

“Well, you’re  _ half _ -muggle aren’t you.”

Snape groaned and threw up his hands as he stormed off to slip into pajamas and a thick robe. The warm pajamas, this time all black, were smooth and soft against his skin. The wine had encouraged his drunkenness and he couldn’t help but smile at the warmth rolling over him. This was nice. Nothing he ever did was  _ nice _ and yet, here he was, about to snuggle on a couch and watch a movie.

Sauntering out into the middle of the room, Severus plopped down on the couch. Rifling through the movies his house-elf had brought him, he decided on a rather happy movie he had watched several times. Several spells later, a functioning screen had been erected and the VHS had been slipped into a transfigured tape player. Ever since he had been a boy, Severus had been enamored with the magic of movies. 

_ The muggles certainly got that correct. Wizards never use their imagination.  _ He huffed to himself.  _ And when they do, they are reprimanded. _

Harry slunk out of his room wearing the pajama pants with snakes on it that Snape had given him along with a red, long-sleeve shirt. Severus warmed further as he looked at a light blush coloring the cheeks of the Gryffindor. He looked comfortable and, after his teary-eyed confession, Snape couldn’t help but see that he was at home here. 

“Snape...what is this?”

“Surely you know.”

“No. Wait, no. Is it a movie?” Harry’s face lit up. Severus couldn’t help but gaze in awe at the twinkle in Harry’s eyes. It seemed that his new favorite pastime was amusing Harry Potter. "The Dursleys never let me see one."

“I suppose you are in for a treat, then.” He gestured to the empty spot beside him on the couch. “Tea?”

“Sure. And chocolate? I kinda finished up the last box.”

Snape tsk-ed as he picked up waved over his water and wine glass along with two cups of tea, his chocolates, and the special box he kept hidden for when Harry destroyed his. That boy might not drink him out of best liquors but he would devour every last morsel of his chocolate if left unattended. Sometimes Snape wondered if that gift had been a curse for it had opened a world of Harry stealing his candies that he wished didn’t exist.

Handing Harry a delicate green box his velvet voice said, “They are all for you. Do not ask for any more than what is in that box.” More to himself he said, “The rest are warded so your grubby little hands can’t get them.”

Harry laughed again and the sound made Snape grumble. This was how their relationship worked nowadays. Snape had never known anyone to appreciate his gruff humor or his cynicism so the genuine warmth in Harry’s laugh always took him by surprise.

“You always keep a box for me though. How sweet, Severus.”

Snape arched an eyebrow and sipped on his wine while watching Harry. His head felt as if it were floating in the clouds at the use of his name. 

“When did I give you permission to use my given name?”

Harry turned scarlet and began spluttering. 

Severus opened his mouth and laughed until tears were in his eyes. He had yet to earn such a terrified, caught-red-handed look from Harry and it lit fireworks in his soul. Later, Severus blamed the alcohol but in the moment he only waved a hand and said, “I am not on my deathbed tonight, Harry but, given the circumstance, tonight and  **tonight alone** you may call me Severus.” Merlin, he really was drunk. 

Harry turned an even deeper shade of red and nodded, stuffing chocolate into his mouth before he said something stupid.

“You’re sure you’d still want to talk to me after Hogwarts? How can you be sure I won’t still be a bratty child?”

“You will always be an impertinent brat.” He snorted lightly. “I am beginning to think it is an endearing feature.”

Snape turned his head to the side with a wide yawn, popping a chocolate into his mouth and closing his eyes. He savored the mingling of flavors on his tongue, the wine, the leftover flavor of dinner, and the chocolate when a gentle pressure connected with his thigh. 

Opening his eyes, he turned to look at Harry whose thigh was applying pressure to the outside of Snape’s splayed legs. Severus held perfectly still, unwilling to disturb the momentary gift bestowed upon him. Warmth rushed to his cheeks and pooled in lakes of fire in his eyes as he looked at the deep green eyes, twinkling with chaos and lust. Harry licked his lips and tilted his head, exposing his neck. Snape’s eyes trailed to the open skin. He greedily drank in the sight of a wanting, open Harry.

He drank down his glass of wine and summoned another. “Would you like another glass?”

“Of course. What student would turn that down?”

Snape rolled his eyes, summoned the liquor, and started the movie. They sat, thighs touching, and Harry’s head resting back against Snape’s shoulder for the entirety of the movie. Severus hardly watched the flickering images. Instead, he watched Harry giggle, cry, and jerk with surprise. He stared down at the mop of hair and committed the image to memory.

_ I may never have this again. It was selfish enough that I’ve taken this for myself. But I cannot deny him. Not now. Not when he is so eager, so close. _ Severus breathed in Harry’s scent of pine and freshwaters. He smelled clean and light and it positively intoxicated him.  _ Tonight he is mine. Harry. My Harry. _

Suddenly then, drunkenly, Snape realized he had been staring into Harry’s eyes for several minutes. The plump lips were moving around something but Snape was more focused on the delicate stubble lining Harry’s jaw.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said, the movie’s over.”

“Mm,” Snape hummed as he brought a hand to brush through the unruly hair. “So it is.”

Harry practically purred at the touch. He said, his voice low and scraping over rocks, “I really like it here, you know. I wasn’t just drunk.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.” 

Snape looked at the eyes and quirked lips and felt like he was drowning in the tension between. Harry continued. “I don't know why, but I always trusted you. I knew I could tell you about Uncle Vernon. I wasn’t sure at first when you told me I was welcome, thought you were just doing your duty as head of house to offer me someplace safe but...

“Then I got here and…” Harry blew air out from his lips before pulling his lower lip into his mouth. “I don’t know. You’re something else.”

Harry dropped his hand on Snape’s inner leg, dangerously closer to his half-hard erection. As Snape fidgeted to escape the hand, it slipped closer, coaxing him into stillness. Blood rushed south as his bulge grew, now apparent through his pants and begging for attention. Severus downed his water and banished all the cups except for his still full wine glass. The tremble of want in his hands would give away his poised demeanor. 

The green eyes blinked as Harry smiled. The hand squeezed the thigh. “You aren’t what I thought at all.”

Severus swallowed around a moan caught in his throat. His voice came out lower, hoarser than usual. “Harry, are you drunk?”

“No. Not at all. Are you?”

_ I’m too bloody drunk for this. _

Severus heard his breath become ragged as the hand inched closer, his cock so hard he thought he might explode if Harry touched him any further. 

“Harry…”

“Gods, love when you say my name. Do you know that? Bloody love that you say my name, Severus.”

_ Dammit all to hell _ .

Severus stood and staggered away from Harry, tripping and falling over the coffee table in the process. The wine jumped from his glass and into the air in a phenomenal display of color as the shattering glass sparkled beside him. Out of the corner of his vision, he could see Harry followed. Flipping onto all fours, Snape crawled to the chair and used it to stand.

“I am drunk.”

Harry smirked. “Yeah?”

“I am retiring for the evening. If something is the matter, knock.”

“Okay.” He could hear Harry snickering.

“You’re drunk, Harry. Go to bed.”

Severus walked towards his bed without so much as a sway to his step, not giving away his drunkenness. 

“I’m not as drunk as you.”

He felt a shove of magic and Harry was in his head, throwing images at him as he walked towards the bedroom.

_ He saw himself diving in like a hawk, lunging at Harry. His lips found Harry’s neck and began sucking and licking and drawing lewd noises from Harry. He barely registered Harry’s hand rub over his cock as he stood. Wedging one knee between Harry’s legs and applying insistent pressure there, his other leg pressed against the couch to keep him at the right angle.  _

_ Harry’s hands moved up Snape’s back and he could feel Harry’s hips needily grind his cock against the firm thigh. Severus smiled as he sucked on the bobbing Adam’s apple. Harry ground against the leg, begging for more but Snape didn’t give an inch. Harry palmed Severus through his lounge pants and it took all the strength Snape had not to collapse on top of the boy right then. _

_ “Severus! Fuck. I’m gonna, Merlin, I’m gonna-” _

_ Snape leaned in and tongued Harry’s ear, “Come.” _

_ Harry ground against Snape twice more before howling and coming in his pants. The sight beneath him, against him, threw Severus over the edge. When he came too, moments later, he took in the scene. _

Severus shot an arm out, bracing himself against the door as he felt himself grow dangerously close to an edge he did not want to tip over.

“Everything all right?”

_ That damn brat. Should never have taught him legilimency, occlumency. The nerve of that man. _

“Yes. Goodnight. You little shit.”

He slammed the door behind him. Tonight, he refused to give himself over to the pleasure that pooled in his stomach. But Severus smiled as he quickly pumped himself to release, leaning on the edge of his bed for support. With a grunt, he spilled over his hand. Panting as the room swirled, he spelled himself clean before shedding his pants and crawling between the sheets.

_ I am not drinking in front of him again. That brat is too Slytherin for his own good. Conniving and courage are a toxic mix.  _ And still, Severus smiled as he closed his eyes. He was happy.  _ Harry, you’ve given me such a present. Such a terribly wonderful present. Perhaps I will survive this after all. For you, Harry, I will live. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter as promised! It's a slow one, kind of filler-ish but I feel like after the breakneck pace of the last two chapters it's definitely needed. Hope you guys enjoyed happy Snape. Well, as happy as he can get considering the war. Let me know what you think!


	13. The Ghost Orchid

“Harry,” Severus barked, “I do  _ not _ have time for this at the moment.”

“Oh, bugger off.”

Severus shouted something incoherent as he threw his arms up and stormed into his bedroom. Something about it made Harry giggle. It was the black fluffy socks, he decided. He had transfigured them for an assignment and left them outside Snape’s door as if he were trying to earn the trust of some stray cat. Only once he turned his gaze away did the door open. Snape accepted them without saying a single word to Harry. And now, he stormed away in them, as he shouted.

_That sums us up pretty well,_ Harry thought. It hadn’t been long since he’d made that drunken pass at an even drunken Snape but things had decidedly changed between them. Severus gave up chastising Harry in public altogether, settling for the usual insults they shared behind closed doors. Hearing the word “brat” at this point was something akin to being told he was loved. Though he supposed, to onlookers it appeared the same. 

_ He isn’t cruel anymore. Not to me certainly but not to the others either. Not that they notice at all. It’s like he’s...happy. Or as happy as someone like him can get. _ The door slammed him out of his reverie as the wash of warding over the door kept Harry in his place in his chair.

_ As if I’d ever intrude.  _ Harry giggled to himself.  _ Twice, that is. _

The public humiliation wasn’t the only thing that had changed between the two since that night where Harry had unabashedly snuggled up to Snape. Severus took more stolen glances, lingering when he was caught where before he would have turned away with a scowl. His cheeks turned red more often as he and Harry relied less and less on the house-elves for food and took to cooking dinners for one another. Better yet, when Harry and Severus brewed together, Severus had begun to apply a featherlight touch to Harry as the hours passed. The brush of a hand over his shoulder, the slight pressure of a hand to Harry’s lower back, or even a light ruffle of brown hair. It wasn’t anything more than that, of course, but to Harry, it was the world. Some imaginary wall had been hit with a wrecking ball that night that Harry chose to force images into Snape’s mind and though only a few bricks had tumbled out of the strong wall, through the gaps stood a tender, loving Snape eager to care for and tend to Harry.

There was more of this too. Brilliant explosions of emotion. Whether it was shooting a random hex at Harry’s heels for trying to get at Snape’s chocolates or affectionately smacking the back of Harry’s head for slicing an ingredient too thick, Snape’s emotions were on display in these rooms. Harry had even learned how to read the thinly veiled emotions in the classroom. How he had ever thought Snape was impossible to read, astounded him. There was none of that now, only a clear understanding of what the man was enduring.

And still, Harry was frustrated. The dance was approaching, he had no one to take, and he was absolutely livid with Severus for suggesting he turn up with Draco given that their plan relied heavily on the safety of both boys. Of course, it was logical, everything Severus had offered up so far was logical which only made Harry angrier. Harry wanted to go alone, didn’t really want to go at all but considering the scope of things knew he couldn’t weasel his way out of it. His hands began to sweat at the thought of the dance. It was bad enough that at the first Yule Ball before Harry had even gotten a chance to know Severus, he had blushed any time he looked in the man’s direction. Harry’s cheeks reddened at the thought.

_ Merlin, he looked so damn good in those robes. Especially the dress robes.  _ Harry sighed.  _ Now, I have to go with someone else and  _ **_watch_ ** _ him just sit there in those stupid bloody robes? I don’t even want to go. I can’t go with a girl because I’m bloody tired of keeping up an act and no Slytherin girl would go with me since they all know I’m as straight as a merry-go-round.  _

He carded a hand through his hair. 

_ This is useless. I’ll just have to ask Draco and pretend not to see Snape. _ A voice in his head, sounding a lot like Snape huffed,  _ If  _ **_this_ ** _ is what you are concerned about, we are doomed to fail. _ He waved the thought away and went back to staring at the fire. It wasn't his fault anyway that Snape had to look so good in those clothes.

Snape burst through the door moments later, dressed in his black button-down robes with a heavy cloak draped around his shoulders and an armful of dusty books. The cloak swelled behind him as his boots came down hard on the stone section of the floor. When he reached the exit to the rooms, he huffed and tossed his hair back with a slight shake of his head.

“You are coming with me.” The books were shrinking down one by one as he carefully placed them into the pockets of his slacks.

“I’m what? Where?”

“Grab something warm. We will not be using any warming charms.” Snape continued staring at Harry for a moment before pointing towards the room and growling, “Now. I do  _ not have  _ **_time_ ** _. _ ”

“All right, easy.”

It was rare to see Severus in such a mood. Perhaps years ago Harry would have thought that was the only mood Snape was capable of: sour. But since the summer at the Burrow, Harry realized Severus had shades of sour. Harry laughed at the thought. Snape was in rare form tonight, excited to the point of snapping his careful control over his emotions. Harry scampered off to his bedroom, quickly disrobing and putting on what he deemed to be more appropriate attire. Transfiguring a large cloak similar to Snape’s out of a long-sleeved shirt, Harry buttoned it to his wizard robes and shrugged. For good measure, he grabbed a pair of gloves and shoved them into his pockets. He heard an audible groan from the other room and smirked at Snape’s annoyance. Quickly, he tugged on some black boots and rushed back over to Snape who had finished shrinking down the stack of books and stood with his arms crossed and scowl on his face.

“Honestly, Harry.”

"What? I went as fast as I could."

Snape snatched the invisibility cloak from the counter where Harry often dropped his belongings. Next to it sat a watch, a box of chocolates, and the latest snitch he had won. Before he had time to get sentimental, the invisibility cloak was thrust to him by one of those elegant ivory hands. The obsidian eyes softened as Harry draped it around his shoulders.

“You look ridiculous.”

“Yeah, well,” said Harry’s floating head, “Guess it comes with the territory.”

A crooked smile covered Snape’s features. Harry felt his enamourment bubble up inside his stomach. The crooked smile remained a moment longer before another pale hand grabbed the top of the cloak and yanked it down over the wide eyes and metal-rimmed glasses.

“Stay close to me.”

“‘Fraid I’ll suddenly fancy a walk?”

The dark eyes told him to shut up. So Harry did with a soft chuckle. The dark eyes rolled as they stepped out of the room and into the cool corridor. It was well into spring now and Harry was sweltering beneath both the invisibility cloak and the transfigured cloak looped around his shoulders despite the coolness of the dungeons. He scuttled behind Severus like a little bug as they dashed through the corridors. The flow of the cape continued to brush against the invisibility cloak and Harry was bathed in the rich scent of Severus. 

Suddenly then, as they approached the exit, one arm shot out behind Snape as he stopped.

Snape whispered so low Harry nearly missed it. “Occlude.”

Harry nearly smacked into the back but seeing the arm fly out, he willed every muscle in his body to stop. Now, Harry forcibly occluding, having genuinely gotten better at it since resuming his lessons earlier that year. Then, that familiar dark wand pointed directly at him. A pleasant fire spread through his limbs as Snape’s magic surrounded and penetrated the invisibility cloak. The arm, wand still in hand, pulled Harry tightly to his back. Harry snuggled closer, pressing his head gently against Snape’s rigid back. 

_ What the bloody hell is happening?  _ Harry thought to ask but quickly closed his mouth. He couldn’t see around Snape and couldn’t assess the danger.  _ I hope this isn’t just some Gryffindor wandering out past- _

The low voice interrupted Harry’s thoughts. “Headmaster.”

_ Oh bloody hell. That's bad. _

“Out late aren’t we, Severus?”

“I was unaware I had a curfew.”

“No, no. Of course not, my boy.” Dumbledore paused as Snape shifted closer to the wall, pressing Harry between the wall and his body. He could feel every dip in the castle stones. The black cloak, smelly thickly of forest and autumn, covered Harry. He was well and truly blind. Not that he minded. Being pressed behind Snape was not the worst place he could find himself, though he loathed that if Dumbledore discovered him he would aim at Snape first. 

Harry suppressed a shiver as the tension grew. The silence stretching between the two wizards created the air of what Harry determined felt like a battlefield. The last time he had felt such a presence was when he himself had faced down Voldemort and the Death Eaters at the Triwizard Tournament. Harry shivered, the memory of Cedric still dredging up an acute sense of terror and loss. The body in front of him seemed to press against him more firmly, allowing no room for doubt that he would be protected. Harry measured his breathing, matching it with the subtle rise and fall of Snape’s back. He could hear the strong heartbeat thudding beneath the ribs. It was slow, measured.

_Of course, it is. Even now he isn’t worried._ And then, it sped up. Harry held his breath, suddenly terrified.

Dumbledore said, “Where are you going tonight, Severus?”

“A meeting with the Dark Lord.” The heart was hammering faster. _He's lying. He's lying to the Headmaster._

“Is that so?”

“Yes, of course," Snape snapped.

_ If Dumbledore knows there isn’t a meeting, he can’t tell him that. Merlin, Snape you’re smart. But that would only go so far before Dumbledore punishes him. _

“My, my Severus, are you lying to me?” Snape was quiet but the heart had already begun to slow back down. “I have it on good authority that he is out of the country.”

“You assume I will not be as well. The Dark Lord has called me, Albus. Is it not your wish that I respond?”

“No. You must go if he is to remain in the dark about your alliances.” Harry nearly sighed in relief when he was pressed now uncomfortably against the wall. Now he could feel each of those groves digging into his skin. The heartbeat quickened again.  _ Merlin, Snape you’re crushing me.  _ Then it dawned on Harry.  _ Bloody hell, he must be using legilimency against the Headmaster and the Headmaster must be doing the same to him. This is bad. Oh gods, this isn’t going to end well.  _

“Tell me, Severus, how is the boy?”

“Potter?”

“Yes, yes.” Harry was unaccustomed to hearing the soft old voice snap so harshly. He nearly shuddered but reigned it in at the last possible moment. 

“He is ill. I’ve just sent him to St. Mungo’s.”

“They wouldn’t mind a stop from me now, would they?”

“You are Headmaster. It is within your rights.”

Dumbledore was silent for a moment before saying, “Well, then. I assume you will be unable to teach tomorrow?”

“Presumably.”

“I will have the students-”

“No need. Instructions have been left for them.”

Severus tightened marginally, his shoulder blades pulling Harry closer to him. But Harry heard Dumbledore sigh and mutter a goodbye, turning and leaving from the way he had come. Several minutes passed before Severus let a sigh out and stepped away from Harry enough that the younger wizard could breathe but not so much that the hard stone of the wall wasn’t pushing bruises into his spine. 

Startling Harry, Snape yelled “Expecto Patronum!” From the tip of his wand burst a lovely doe, soft around the edges and batting her small ears. Harry’s eyes widened. “Go to St. Mungo’s to Ms. Delacely and deliver this message: Albus doubts me. Harry must occupy a bed. Make it convincing. Your debt is paid.” 

Before Harry could say anything, Snape snapped his fingers. Dobby popped up.

“Master Snape and Harry Potter, sirs. How can Dobby be of assistance?”

“Find Draco, tell him to write a fitting potions assignment in my hand. Have him warn Slytherin, they will need to be on their guard for the next day. Do  _ not _ allow Albus into the kitchens. He may try. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Master Snape.” 

“Good. Thank you.”

Dobby vanished with a loud crack. Finally, Snape let Harry leave the wall completely and Harry sucked in a deep breath.

“Do not stop occluding.”

He ripped the invisibility cloak from Harry and grabbed his hand, promptly dragging him the last hundred feet from the castle. The dark hair flew behind Severus as he pulled Harry through the massive doors leading out of the castle. The pale face was taut in a focused expression Harry had the luxury of rarely seeing. There was a nervous fear in those glittering back eyes alongside determination and something unnamed Harry might have thought was love. The hand grabbing his squeezed him fiercely. 

_ He's scared. _

Something was wrong, very wrong if it made Severus Snape, renowned spy and man afraid of no one, scared. Harry knew better than to ask what that something was despite his burning curiosity. It wouldn't help them anyway. All he knew was that Dumbledore was after them and that they had narrowly avoided the Headmaster. A feat that seemed much more dangerous given how protective Snape was in the moment. He commanded Harry to occlude, hid him with his body, placed a spell on him, and lied. Harry wasn’t even sure  _ why _ Snape had lied or if he had lied at all. What Harry knew at the moment was very little, but he knew he trusted Severus. He knew Severus, though dramatic, would never cast a spell unnecessarily. He would never throw his body in front of the train without purpose.

Together, hand in hand, they stormed across the grounds until Harry had to break out in a run to keep up with the long legs. The gate stood tall and ominous off in the distance as Harry yearned to turn around and look at the castle. It felt as if eyes were watching him. He felt pitifully naked without the invisibility cloak draped around his shoulders. But the gate continued rapidly growing closer and the moment they burst through it, Severus pulled Harry to him in a hug and apparated. 

Harry fell to his knees as he landed in the middle of some very wet, very cold forest. His face was warm and tingly. A terrible ache had begun along his jaw. Moving his hand to touch the center of the throbbing, Harry’s stomach flipped with panic as he touched warm blood. The taste of iron quickly followed.

“Snape?” The voice came out too high, nervous. 

Snape was beside Harry in an instant, down on one knee. “Are you all right?”

“I...I’m bleeding.”

“Dammit.” The pale hands cradled his face as the dark eyes swept over the wound. 

Beneath the moonlight, Harry’s hands were tinted blue, his blood some strange purple concoction. The hand furthest from Harry’s wound gripped him hard enough to press light bruises into his jawline. Severus didn’t let up. Instead, he lifted his wand and furrowed his brow.

_ Bugger looks right upset. Haven’t seen him look so worried since I came home all beaten up.  _

“You were spliced.”

“Spliced? How did you manage to-”

Snape’s voice came soft, barely above a whisper and it carried the low tones of shame. “I did not think Albus would extend the barriers around Hogwarts.” His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I apologize.”

“You… You’re sorry?”

Severus nodded, his long hair falling to cover his eyes as he finished healing Harry’s face. He lowered the wand, casting a quick cleaning spell that left Harry's hands void of the moonlit blood. The dark eyes jumped back up to Harry's as the hand that had remained on Harry's jaw lowered down to Snape’s knee as he sat crouched. Snape looked down in his lap, exuding an air of shame and guilt.

“It...will scar. I did not bring healing salves.” He scoffed. “I should have brought dittany. Instead, I’ve… scarred you.”

Finally, Harry got a good look at Snape beneath the light of the full moon.  _ Merlin, he looks like he’s crying. He  _ **_is_ ** _ crying.  _ Sure enough, there were the shimmering lines of tears rolling down his cheeks. But, save the frown knitting his eyebrows together, Snape kept his face apathetic. The lips did not move. The nose still shadowed half the man’s face and the eyes betrayed nothing, not even the tears they spilled.

Snape turned his head away quickly, returning with cheeks dried by magic. He said, more firmly, “It will scar. You need no new scars.” He brushed his knuckles across the sensitive line of new skin. “I am sorry, Harry.” 

Harry snatched the pale hand as it pulled away. Words sat on the back of his tongue, unable to flow forth.  _ It’s okay. I trust you. You  _ **_healed_ ** _ me. I’d wear a thousand scars if they all told the same story, the story about how much you care for me. I’d wear them with pride. Value them to the day I died because they are touches of reality. Touches of something real I might never get to have because of Voldemort. Severus, this scar is real. If you...died, I'd still have the scar to prove this was real. I would cherish every one of my scars if they all came from you.  _ A voice quipped in his head, _Just a crush?_

_ Merlin, no. I can’t...can’t love him. That’s not...I thought it was a crush. Just a crush. Bugger all. I do love him. _

The onyx eyes watched fearfully, as Harry continued clutching onto the thin wrist. Seeing the fear, the expectation of a fist coming for the thin face in those dark eyes, Harry relaxed his grip and smoothed over the soft skin of the inside of Snape’s wrist with his thumb for a moment. The terror in the eyes relaxed.

_ He was abused.  _ Harry gently let the captured wrist go.  _ What can I say to him? What can I say that doesn’t...doesn’t tell him that I love him, doesn’t spook him. Doesn’t ruin this perfect friendship. The only friendship I’ve ever had like this. _

“I don’t care,” was all Harry said. 

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized he had slipped. Snape snorted, rolling his eyes beneath closed eyelids and lifted brow in disbelief. _Well, that wasn't right._ Snape smiled down at his lap.

“Indeed.” 

Snape stood, offering a hand and hauling Harry up to his feet. The boots crunched as he picked his path through the edge of the forest. Harry followed without question.

“Where the bloody fuck are we anyway?”

“Language.” Harry groaned and rolled his eyes, tripping over a large branch in the process. A webbing of magic caught him. The tip of Snape’s wand retreated back up his sleeve. “North.”

“Oh very helpful.”

“I could give you a precise latitude and longitude if it suits your needs better.”

“No, no. North is good enough, I guess. Really far north or a little?”

“As far north as I am able to apparate.”

Harry grunted. Even if Severus had told him a specific location, Harry knew he probably still wouldn't know where they were. North was good.

They continued winding through the forest with Snape snapping at Harry to stay close and Harry continuing to stop to look up at the massive trees. It was beautiful here. It reminded Harry a bit of the Forbidden Forest only with about half as much malevolence floating about it. The ground was a spattering of dark green moss and wet earth and a thick fog covered the two cloaked figures up to their knees, swirling behind them. Severus walked ahead, tossing his hood up as they entered an area of the forest where the temperature had dropped. Harry, unable to help himself and still struggling to follow directions, hung back to watch Severus float through the forest.

_ He looks like he belongs here. Beautiful.  _ Harry sniggered to himself.  _ Never thought I’d love the way a man fucking walks through a forest. _ He watched as Snape glided slowly into the distance. Briefly, he thought about that cozy cottage Snape had described, the small mirror showing a cottage covered in snow and puffing out plumes of smoke.  _ It’d be right at home in this forest. Doubt I could just ask the…ask the... _

Harry blinked back sudden hopelessness. His vision swam. The fog below him crept higher until it encompassed him up to his waist. Harry’s thoughts closed in on him and he struggled to breathe.

“Snape.” His voice was too quiet, he knew. “Sn...Snape.” It wouldn’t come out any louder.

The shadowed figure in the distance was gone. Harry crashed to his knees, fully absorbed in the fog. Gasping for air, Harry collapsed further onto his elbows, smearing dirt into his cloak. Violently shaking his head, Harry fought against the fog creeping into his brain. Everything was dark, hopeless. He would lose to the Dark Lord. His friends would remain under the Imperius. He had failed everyone. _I'm going to lose Snape._ Hard, wet earth clung to his cheeks as he fell face-first into the ground. The sickening crunch of his glasses under his torso made him groan. Desperately fighting against the feeling of nothingness absorbing him, he rolled onto his back to come face to face with a dementor.

It’s long, skeletal hands reached out towards him. 

“Severus. Sev…”

Thunder rumbled through the earth after his quiet call leapt into the night. But Harry felt himself drifting, falling away as he stared at the dementor. His hand groped his leg for his wand even as he lost his will. His body was heavy, his limbs terribly uncooperative but he was able to move enough to inch closer to his wand until, at last, the cool wand touched the palm of his hand with a spark of kindness. Hope. 

Hazily willing his eyes to focus on the dementor, Harry brought his attention to his happiest memory. Focusing on the rich chocolate sound of Snape’s laughter, Harry found the strength to raise his wand and shout, “Expecto Patronum!” 

It took a moment, but then his stag exploded from the tip of his wand in a brilliant burst of blue. Standing proudly, it scared off the rogue dementor and looped back to stand next to Harry’s body. Trembling, he dropped his arm to the ground, not even caring that his wand rolled from his hand. He looked over at the hooves, fighting off the fuzz of unconsciousness. The thunder rolling through the ground continued but he couldn’t understand. The stag’s feet were still. Where was the sound coming from? Harry closed his eyes, only for a moment, but began to slip into unconsciousness when, without warning, the rumbling stopped and a warm, rich scent overwhelmed his senses. 

Two hands gripped his shoulders and hauled him up onto a firm lap. Opening his eyes, Harry smiled weakly at the blue-lit face scowling down off into the distance. Harry had the pleasure of watching Snape’s doe bound off after the dementor.  _ They look good together like that. Like they fit. _

“Harry! Merlin, I will slap you if you don’t answer me.”

_ Slap me? _ The green eyes rolled over to Snape, focusing on the heavy scowl.

"Can't see you."

Snape brushed the damp hair off his forehead and Harry was struck by how suddenly cold he had become. Snape pulled up a section of cloak and rubbed it softly across Harry’s face, cleaning the tan features before placing fixed glasses back on.

“That was a good cloak you’ve soiled.” He muttered. The words held no venom. Unshrinking a chocolate box from his pocket, Severus pushed a sweet piece between Harry’s lips. Harry took it gratefully before laughing. 

“No dittany, but chocolate?”

Snape huffed, dropping Harry back to the ground. Harry kept laughing but shakily made his way to his feet.

“I instructed you to stay close. If you could not even do so much as that I do not know why I bothered to bring you here.”

“Could have told me there were dementors out here, you know?”

“I did not know that you twit.” 

“Oh.”

“Come. We are losing time.”

Snape grabbed Harry’s hand and stalked off. It was the second time that night Snape had held Harry’s hand and this time he showed no intention of letting go. 

“Were you running?”

“What are you talking about?” Snape barked. “I do not run.”

“Oh gods, you  _ were _ running.” The pale hand squeezed his. 

“I… It’s unimportant.” 

Harry laughed a little but squeezed the hand back. “Thanks.”

“You rely too heavily on luck, Harry.”

“Yeah, s’pose I do. But...it does work, doesn’t it?”

Snape groaned at tugged at Harry until he arrived next to him. They continued walking hand in hand until a heavy sigh puffed out from Snape’s lips into the cool air. Then the warm hand entwined with Harry’s pulled back, leaving his hand cold and wanting. Severus moved forward and Harry hung by closely, not holding his hand any longer but still occasionally brushing his knuckles against Snape’s as they walked. 

After a long stretch of silence, Harry asked, “So um, if not because of the dementors why’d you bring me?”

Snape snorted. “I am here to collect a very rare potion ingredient from a flower known as the ghost orchid. They are beautiful flowers but perish if they are removed from this forest. I thought you might be interested in seeing them.”

“You’ve tried?”

“Other potions masters have. I have not. The ingredient is...difficult...to capture at best. I would have been unable to gather it before.”

“So why remove the flower if you knew you couldn’t get the ingredient in the first place.”

“Precisely.”

“So there’s this very rare, hard to harvest flower that in all your years of brewing you’ve been unable to get, and you brought me because you thought I’d like them?”

“Yes.” Harry smiled at the soft roll of Snape’s shoulders he always did when he blushed. “They have a certain ethereal quality you may appreciate.”

“Like the thestrals?”

“Nothing as dark but yes, crude as that analogy may be.” Snape stopped on the edge of a clearing and stepped in front of Harry. “Do not disturb them. You are not here to invoke your Gryffindor chaos. Do not  _ touch. _ ” He spat out the last word making Harry smile. 

Stepping out of the way, Snape and Harry entered the small clearing. 

“Wow,” Harry breathed. 

Severus, now bathed in the light of hundreds of glowing white orchids smiled back at Harry whose heart clamped down in his chest. He nodded subtly towards Harry who stumbled into the clearing as if entering a dream. Standing beside Severus in the middle of the patted down section of grass, Harry felt as though he’d walked into Eden. The moon was clear in this area, the wide reach of the trees unwilling to interrupt its brilliant rays. It lit Severus in a pleasing light, one that contoured his features and twinkled in his dark eyes.  _ This is paradise. And I’m here with  _ **_him._ ** __

The flowers swayed as a gentle zephyr rolled across their petals. They were long, spindly plants and their green stems wrapped all around the trees lining the perimeter of the clearing. The bright white petals illuminated the clearing with the reflected light of the moon. Harry let out several huffs of disbelief. Never in his life, not when he’d first walked into Diagon Alley, not when he first ate at Hogwarts, could he believe that such a magical place existed.

Then Snape’s low voice rumbled into the night and Harry felt tears brimming. “It is exquisite, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathed. “It’s…” 

“Harry Potter,” Snape said. “Speechless.”

Harry only nodded.

“Are you ready?”

Turning to look at Snape, Harry saw fire in the obsidian depths. “Ready for what?”

A soft, strange little smile that touched the edges of Snape’s eyes turned Harry’s stomach into a mass of fluttering wings. “This.” Severus stooped slightly and pulled Harry into a warm hug. The cloak wrapped all around Harry, bringing him delicious heat as he suddenly understood the lack of warming spells. He was plenty comfortable in Severus’s arms. Soft puffs of air danced over Harry’s neck as Snape said, “Look over my shoulder.”

There, lifting high into the sky, were thin, silvery strands coming out of the ghost orchids. They curled like smoke, moved like the magic that shot out when Harry called for his patronus. Stretching in all directions, the wisps of pale blue light crept closer to the two. The palms of Snape’s hands pressed Harry closer. Harry found that he too couldn’t help but hold Severus more tightly as if any action other than that would have been blasphemous. 

“Will it...will it stop if we let go?”

“Yes.”

The flowers floated in the breeze, their ethereal wisps painting the currents rolling through the small clearing. Every moment they crept closer, bringing with them an unnamed emotion. It was light, soft, and delicate in a way that sparked a stark, unforgivable craving inside Harry. It reminded him of Severus. Harry hugged more fiercely as the emotions leaked from him.

“They’re so pretty.” Harry’s voice was thick with tears. 

One of the hands snaked up and petted the back of Harry’s head. “Yes, they are.” Harry felt Severus nuzzle against his head, the large nose poking at his neck. “Harry, do not let go.”

Before he had time to ask why on Earth he would let go and ruin this, the dancing curls of ghostly light touched his face. Gasping, he nearly dropped his arms at the waves of joy flowing through him, but Severus was there, pleading with him in his ear and Harry firmed his grip, silencing Severus. Then, the world stilled.

The two cloaked figures remained in the embrace with the pale light twining around their bodies. Harry’s green eyes were open and brilliant as he followed the trails of the lights around the forest clearing. Tears left shimmering rivers down his reddened cheeks as he held onto the man he loved and basked in the warm hum radiating through his body. He brought a hand up to Snape’s hair without thinking and cradled the taller man closer.

_ I love you, Severus Snape. That’s what this all feels like. _

Snape’s eyes were screwed shut, a wide grin marred only by his teeth biting into his lower lip as tears dripped off his hooked nose. The wisps coming from the ghost orchids lay across his hair like tinsel, decorating even his darkest thoughts in peace. He let out a harsh sob before being tugged impossibly closer to Harry.

Harry breathed in deeply.  _ I know, Severus. It’s...too much to handle for us. Isn’t it? Joy given to people who aren’t used to it. The relief is painful. _

Harry, feeling Severus tremble, said, “I know.”

Severus weakly nodded before beginning to pull back. 

“Wait you said-”

“It is all right now. Look.”

Stepping from the clearing were the two patronuses. Harry wound his hand into Snape’s as he watched in confusion. Cocking his head and squinting his eyes, Harry was about to say something when he caught sight of the unencumbered smile decorating Severus's face. Harry remained quiet and watched. The two deer galloped around the clearing, playing together for a moment before slowly settling down. The wisps of silvery light emanating from the flowers lifted themselves from Severus and Harry and floated over to the patronuses where they settled like a blanket over the deer now standing side by side. Then, all of a sudden, everything around Harry exploded into a flash of light which shot from the forest with the force of a bomb. 

He was left to stare at the now rather ordinary-looking orchids.

“The ghost orchids bloom under specific circumstances,” Snape said as he pulled a phial from his pocket and walked towards the spot the deer had been standing. “Just as the dementors give hopelessness, these flowers create hope.”

“Then the patronuses... Merlin.”

Snape nodded as residual wisps caught in the grass flowed into the phials. “An astute observation. All patronuses originate from this essence.” Severus held up a glass over his shoulder. Harry could see the free hand wipe at his eyes as he remained crouched. Instead of getting up, Snape laid back on the ground. 

Harry joined him, laying his head next to Snape’s and staring up at the moon with him. “Do they always bloom?”

“Yes, every decade.”

“With the silver stuff too?”

“No. That requires specific...circumstances.”

“You aren’t going to tell me are you?”

Snape paused. “Maybe someday.”

“Someday, then.” Harry let out a shaky breath. “Guess the world’s a little brighter today than yesterday, huh?”

The soft snort warmed Harry’s heart. “I suppose it is, brat.”

They lay in the clearing, covered now by wards and warming spells as Harry counted stars and Severus pointed out the constellations, noting the history of them as he went. They laughed together, their joyful sounds bouncing up into the night.

By the time Harry remembered Dumbledore, the sky had shifted positions and Snape had cast a cushioning charm on the ground.

“Why did you cast that spell on me back at the castle?”

“Albus is able to see through your cloak, in a sense. The Homenum Revelio spell allows him the ability to see even those under that ugly thing. I suspected he would be able to cast it wordlessly.”

“He really tried to keep me there.”

“Yes.”

A small silence blanketed them until Harry nudged Snape. “Quit frowning.”

“You could not possibly know I was frowning.”

“It’s a gift. I can  _ always _ tell when you’re frowning.”

Snape grunted. 

Harry said, “Thank you for thinking of me. This...this was the best night of my life.” Harry laughed. “I don’t mean to gush. I just...haven’t had the happiest life really.”

“Nor have I.”

Despite the fact it was the closest Harry had gotten to learning about Snape’s childhood and life, he let it go. Let it dissolve into the peaceful feelings of the night as he said, “But this is nice.”

“This is nice,” Snape echoed.

The two stayed up the length of the night, forgetting about Dumbledore and the demands of the castle, ignoring the dangers of their lives, and basking in the warm peace the magic of the clearing brought to them. They watched the sun rise in the same position as they had watched the stars, lying on their backs, clasped hands between their heads, and soft smiles on their faces. They were happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Tell me what you guys think. This is one of my favorite chapters even though it was a nightmare to edit. Happy boys! Finally! No strings attached, just Severus and Harry being happy together. I hope it gave you guys the warm and fuzzies and maybe cheered up your day :) 
> 
> Also, ghost orchids are real! They're very interesting and very rare :D Thanks for all the support. ♥


	14. Slytherin To The Core

Beads of sweat trailed down Harry’s neck as the heavy cauldron full of punch and potion taxed the muscles of his arms. He had been like this for ten minutes now, hunched against the dungeon wall in a strange stooped position with Draco and the cauldron as they both struggled to stay under the cover of the invisibility cloak while Minerva prowled the same empty stretch of hallway. If they stood up even an inch, they would expose themselves. And so, they hunched and ground their teeth through the pain. His legs trembled in a way not even Quidditch could replicate. Twice now, he had started to lose his grip on the sides of the cauldron wetted by his perspiration. Neither he nor Draco could hold out much longer.

_ Filch took out the cauldrons in half the time and he was doing it himself. Bloody hell. The professors are right to defend him. He is quite...amazing. _

Draco fidgeted. The contents of the cauldron sloshed and threatened to crash over the edges.

“Quit  _ moving _ ,” Harry hissed.

“Well, I don’t want to be bloody standing here anymore, Potter. Or has your peabrain forgotten we are under a deadline?”

“Stuff it. Just...stay still. It’s hard enough to hold onto this bloody thing.”

Draco huffed. “What, not strong enough to hold up a measly-”

“Shut  _ up. _ ”

The clack of McGonagall’s heels approached and even Draco had the common sense to look nervous. The blonde lowered enough so that the invisibility cloak pooled around their ankles, buying them a touch of extra leeway. Harry watched as it fluttered in the passing breeze of the witch. A stinging bead of sweat dripped into Harry’s eye. 

Draco whispering as quietly as possible said, “Watch where you’re dripping.”

“Sorry.” 

“A potion this fragile cannot handle… She’s coming around again.”

The knock of McGonagall’s arrival hardly touched Harry's apprehension, he’d already grown accustomed to her pacing. Besides that, he had been wound tight since Filch had started taking out the old batch of punch and he and Draco began slipping in new cauldrons. McGonagall hardly scared him. This time, however, she stopped directly beside the two boys. Harry looked over at the witch before turning his panic-stricken green eyes to Draco. He widened them slightly with a shake of his head. Draco scowled, biting his lip as he looked over to the witch. The tip of her slender wand was suddenly angled towards the two boys but as much as either one would have liked to grab their wand, their hands were full.

“H-”

“Minerva. Hexing walls now, are we?”

It took all of Harry’s willpower not to whoop with joy at the sound of Snape’s tenor voice roll down the hallway. Both wizards under the cloak let out a small puff of relief as Severus stormed down the hallway like an angry thundercloud. 

“Severus, I thought… Merlin, I don’t what I thought. I have been tired these days.”

“Indeed, haven’t we all?” Snape easily slipped in between the young wizards and McGonagall, giving them the cover to begin their movements back towards the ballroom.

“Yes. The stress of things, Severus. The stress of things.”

“Have you heard any news?”

The question set off McGonagall who promptly dove into some long-winded, worried speech that Harry was positive Snape knew she had at the ready always. Snape’s posture relaxed slightly and both Draco and Harry sighed. For a moment, a touch of glee washed over Harry as they began to move away from the scene. Draco understood Snape too, enough to see the minuscule change in posture and read it as a sign of safety. As Harry and Draco shuffled towards the ballroom where nineteen other punch cauldrons had already been removed and replaced, the green eyes caught sight of a rolled-up piece of parchment peeking out of the palm of Snape’s hands clasped behind his back.

_ The marauder’s map. I thought I lost that!  _ A shit-eating grin covered Harry’s face, earning him a confused head shake from Draco.  _ I can’t believe Snape’s had it this whole time. He must have gotten it from Remus after he took it from me. _ Harry swore that as he took a final look at the map Snape wiggled it at him. Something like pride bubbled in Harry’s chest. Harry’s grin remained as they pulled out of earshot.

“Quit ogling my godfather, Potter.”

Draco tugged lightly on the cauldron, bringing Harry with him and snapping him out of his happy little moment.

“I’m not-”

“I don’t care,” Draco hissed as they approached another corridor. “I haven’t seen Severus this happy.”

“This is happy?”

Draco groaned. “Yes.” 

The gray eyes peered around the corner before he nodded and continued moving slowly towards the ballroom with Harry. Filch, as greasy and grumpy as always, grunted as the two approached.

“Shoe,” he spat out, quickly turning and grumbling to himself as he went down the corridor his cat hissing as it passed.

Both Harry and Draco looked down to see that a well-polished dress shoe had been sticking out.

“Draco!”

“Shove off.” He crouched lower and the silky fabric pooled low enough to cover the shoe. “Shame they have to be hidden really.”

“The whole world will see your pretty shoes tonight, Draco. Let’s just finish this.”

Draco sniffed, looking mildly hurt that Harry hadn’t taken the time to appreciate his shoes. Harry only smiled to himself, at this point it was par for the course. They had been getting along better but Harry was certain that Draco was more than moderately miffed that he would be hanging on the boy-who-lived’s arm all evening instead of someone else. Some pretty little Slytherin or perhaps a nice Ravenclaw. Draco hadn’t made any fuss, not as Harry had before reluctantly agreeing to ask Draco to take him. 

It wasn’t Draco, Harry kept thinking. It wasn’t that it was Draco at all. It was that it  _ wasn’t _ Severus and couldn’t be. 

He kicked the side of Draco's shoe earning a sharp stare. They didn't need a tumble in this room, it was hard enough to navigate as it was.  The room was buzzing with fuss and the massive blob under the invisibility cloak was struggling to keep out of the way. They worked quickly and efficiently, dropping the final cauldron off on a large table. As they turned around, Harry saw Dumbledore step into the room. Grabbing the starched collar to his right, Harry yanked Draco under the table just as the old, hardened features of Dumbledore began to turn their way. 

“What’re you-”

“Shut up. The Headmaster is here.”

Draco paled. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly. Do you know how to occlude?”

“What kind of dumb question is that? You’re the idiot who can’t-”

“Okay, all right. It’s not hate-on-Harry hour. Just do it.”

Harry chewed his lip.  _ How the bloody fuck am I supposed to get out of this with Dumbledore probably already knowing where we are? Think, Harry, think! Slytherin. Something Slytherin. Gryffindor won't work. _

Screwing his eyes shut, Harry fought against every Gryffindor instinct he had to procure a plan that would get both he and Draco out of this without a hair on their head being harmed and without appearing too suspicious in front of Dumbledore. The situation called for tact and cunning, both of which Harry knew he had in droves when push came to shove. Then, a truly wicked smirk came over him making Draco inch back slightly.

In a sweeping motion, Harry ripped the invisibility cloak from their heads ignoring Draco’s hands as he fought to grab hold of an end.

“Are you mad, Potter?” Draco’s whisper came out hoarse and strained as he tried not to yell.

“Yeah, I think I am.”

Taking no time to fold up the cloak, he shoved it into a back pocket. Licking his lips, he shook his head.  _ Oh, Draco is going to kill me for this. He's definitely straight, I think, but he'll knock me one for defiling him. Better that and your life than us both being burned alive. If only I could explain.. _ But Harry didn’t have time to explain. He could feel Dumbledore’s menacing presence, hear the soft drag of his long robes across the exquisite floor. Harry and Draco had run out of time. Leaping forward as much as he could under the table, Harry pinned Draco to the floor and straddled his hips.

“Not a word,” Harry growled.

Hands fisted in the white shirt, Harry ripped the buttons open from Draco’s shirt. The soft pitter-patter of opal buttons hitting the floor dropped Draco’s mouth open. He turned his head to the side, completely perplexed as he watched one of the buttons spin out of control and roll underneath Dumbledore’s approaching shoes. Two hands dove into the neatly quaffed blonde hair and fussed it up.

“Sorry, Draco. I’ll explain later.”

Harry gave an apologetic smile and bent low, sealing his lips to Draco’s. He half expected to be punched in the face but Draco only held still, if not melting a little. It was chaste and both boys kept their lips firmly closed. 

Suddenly then, the shadow of the table lifted and Harry felt the lips below him fight against a smile. It had worked and just in the nick of time.  A heavy hand landed on the middle of Harry’s back. Peeling himself away from Draco with a wink, Harry turned wide green eyes and red lips up to Dumbledore.

“I would ask you, my boy, what you are doing but it seems that much is obvious even to an old man like me.”

“Headmaster! Oh, um, Draco and I… I just… Draco?”

Harry feigned confusion as he worried his lower lip in what he hoped was an appropriate display of embarrassment. He willed the blood to rush to his cheeks to add to the embarrassment factor. Draco still slightly taken aback had no issue turning bright red as he squirmed himself free of Harry’s hips.

“Headmaster,” he said, running a hand through his hair and patting it down. 

_ Huh, the sweat looks right in this position. Dumbledore wouldn’t guess we were hauling cauldrons full of punch around. He’d think we were just snogging. _

“Mr. Malfoy. Interesting predicament you’ve found yourself in.”

Draco stood elegantly and Harry was flummoxed. He, the master of the plan, was still sitting on his arse beneath a hovering table while Draco had the gall to still look put together even with a torn apart shirt and still tousled hair. Despite the flaming in his cheeks, he looked as if he had just been casually listening to a History of Hogwarts, not kissing Harry beneath the table. The blonde wizard’s hand reached out to Harry who gladly took it and fumbled standing up, smacking his head against the leg of the floating table.

“Careful, Harry,” said Dumbledore as he lowered the table back down.

Dumbledore’s pale eyes locked on Harry’s who was a fraction too late with looking away. He felt the pressure of Dumbledore’s hand push against his mind, hard. He squeezed the hand still in his, hoping that Draco would understand the message.

Pale hair interrupted the intense stare between the two wizards and Harry nearly gasped in relief. He had yet to practice his occlumency against anyone other than Snape since he returned to Hogwarts and for a moment was sure that he was doing it incorrectly. It felt as though Dumbledore saw, as though he knew everything Harry could possibly have thought. But he hadn’t felt the familiar burn of memories being wrenched from him nor had he felt the strain of blocking the hard push, the ugly lust for unconsented knowledge.  _ Maybe I am getting better at this. Snape told him in the office that I’m better than him, Dumbledore that is. Maybe I can actually prevent him from getting to my thoughts. _

Gray eyes looked out sideways at Harry for a moment. Subtly, Harry nodded slowly.

Draco, turning his attention back to the Headmaster, said, “Harry and I must be going, Headmaster.” Motioning to his shirt he continued, “It appears I will need a change of wardrobe before the dance.”

Dumbledore looked over Draco’s shoulder at Harry who was quick enough to look away this time. “Yes,” he said, “Yes, that appears to be the case.”

Harry didn’t like the inflection on “appears” but continued being dragged out of the room by Draco whose face was still bright red. The pale blue eyes didn’t twinkle as Harry looked back at Dumbledore staring, watching him leave as the rest of the wizards and witches in the room finished readying it for the dance. Something about that cold, dull stare turned Harry’s insides rotten.

When they rounded a corner, Draco dropped Harry’s hands and shoved his own in his pockets. Harry had to half jog to keep up as Draco tore through the corridors and down the stairs towards the dungeons.

“Are you mad?”

Draco was silent, his face betraying nothing as he stormed back towards the Slytherin common room.

“Come on, Draco. Are you mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad.”

“Oh thank Merlin, I thought-”

“Yes of fucking course I’m mad you bloody useless sock!”

Harry winced.  _ Okay, mad. Right. He should be too. _

“I didn’t-”

“You didn’t what? Think I’d mind having my shirt torn apart?”

Harry huffed, rolling his eyes. “Well, if that’s what you’re mad about.”

Draco spun on his heels and promptly shoved Harry into a wall hard enough that his head knocked against the stone. 

“No, that is not what I’m mad about. I’m mad about being bloody kissed by Harry Potter in front of the entire Great Hall!”

A dark shadow swept out from around a corner as Draco screamed. Snape’s pale face came into view, sporting an honest look of rage that Harry hadn’t seen in well over a year. He fought to ignore it, knowing that Snape didn't think he'd been spotted.

“Well, I’m fucking  _ sorry _ , Malfoy. I didn’t really have the time to ask you and your delicate sensibilities if it was all right with you. I didn’t want our whole fucking plan to go to shit. _He_ was right there. I couldn't just sit under the table and wait for him to attack me. I was thinking about what needed to be done, you idiot.”

“You fucking outed me!”

“I didn’t know! How the fuck would I have known you were gay, Draco? How?” Harry’s voice carried over to Snape as he screamed.

“You...you...You half-blood, fucking, orphaned...agh!” Draco swung and connected with Harry’s jaw. Stars exploded across Harry’s vision.

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry!”

“You...outed...me.” Each word was pronounced with another hard hit. “I could turn you over to the Dark Lord. To Dumbledore.”

“Fuck you,” spat Harry. 

Draco screamed. It was primal, full of rage and pain and for a moment, Harry felt terribly sorry for the blonde. Of course, Lucius wouldn’t accept a gay son, and anyone, anyone at all knowing Draco’s inclinations would put his mother's life in jeopardy as well as his own future. Everything Draco cared about in his life was just another playing piece. And Harry had outed him in front of Dumbledore. Even if Harry could lie and say it was a joke, Draco couldn’t lie about something important. He’d never been able to. Harry had stabbed the proverbial dagger straight through Draco’s chest.

“Dammit, dammit!” Draco seized the roots of his blonde hair before slamming Harry back into the hard wall. He let out a low ‘oof’ as he hit the stones. 

_ Spending too much time against dungeon walls lately, _ Harry thought as he dodged a fist to his face. Quickly he ducked below and jumped to the other side, losing sight of Snape but feeling his heavy magic radiating towards him.

“You fuck!” Draco shook his hand, looking down at bleeding knuckles. The gray eyes pinned him in place as he growled, “You don’t even like him, do you? You just playing him too? Waiting until you can ruin his bloody life too?”

Severus inhaled sharply, watching the boys with sudden interest. He knew he should stop it but some wicked part of him was hungry to know the answer. It came in the form of Harry tackling Draco to the ground and landing a well-placed knee to the groin. Even the apathetic features of the stern man winced as Draco yelped.

“Don’t ever fucking say that to me again. Draco...don’t.  _ Don’t _ . You...you don’t know. You haven’t been there when he’s come back bloody, almost fucking dead. You don’t understand. Do you hear me? You don’t understand. I’d give my fucking life. Is that what you want to hear? I’d give my fucking life for Snape.”

Snape’s eyes widened as a warm flush of terror accompanied by love ran down his arms, leaving goose pimples in their wake.

The gray eyes glowed with betrayal as Draco grabbed Harry by the neck and said, “Severus would never care about someone like-”

“He  _ would _ .” 

Green eyes bore down on Draco with such certainty Draco had no other option but give up. His hand loosened its hold on Harry’s neck and eventually flopped down on his face with a heavy groan. 

“I didn’t know, Draco.” Harry shifted and started to get off the boy. “I’m really sorry.”

“Just get off me.” 

Harry stood, helping Draco up regardless of the scowl on his face. Tentatively touching a hand to Draco’s shoulder he said, “Still want to go to the dance tonight?”

“Well, now I bloody have to, you idiot.”

“Wouldn’t that have done the same thing as kissing you?”

“Pouncing on me, you mean?” Harry groaned. “No. No, that I could have brushed off. Little different when Harry bloody Potter’s lips are on you and you were  _ under a table. _ ”

“Right, sorry. If it makes you feel better, wasn’t a picnic for me.”

Draco whined, actually whined, as if  _ now _ he was being insulted by Harry. 

“Whatever, lover boy.” 

One small hand reached out and seized the back of Harry’s neck. “We have to get you cleaned up. If you are going to be at my side I expect you to  _ at least _ look the part.”

“Me? My shirt isn’t-”

“Do I look disheveled to you, Potter?”

Harry groaned and crossed his arms.  _ No, of course not. Draco doesn’t have it in him to be disheveled I think. Bugger’s always put together somehow. _

“Whatever. Let’s just go get this over with.”

“Demanding little thing, aren’t you? Do you think Snape would…”

Harry shouted and threw his hands over his ears, yelling back at Draco over his shoulder. “Gods, Draco. Shut UP!” The flutter of capes caught the corner of Harry’s eye but by the time he looked over, there was nothing to see. 

_ I’ve given Draco too much ammo. But it’s not my fault that nosey bugger figures everything out!  _ A tiny voice said,  _ Maybe if you didn’t swoon every time Snape walks into a room. _

“I don’t swoon,” Harry muttered to himself.

“Oh you swoon, Potter.”

“Gah.” Harry waved the young Malfoy off.

Draco nudged him with his elbow, a sign of friendship Harry had never seen him express to his cronies or to his peers. Like a crack of lightning splitting open his thoughts, Harry understood. He was Draco’s closest friend. Draco told Harry about the abuse he suffered at home, not Blaise, not Pansy. It was Harry who Draco told when he came back from a meeting with the Dark Lord, shaking. It was Harry’s shoulder Draco had wept on for hours after which he told him the Dark Lord was using Narcissa as leverage. Harry who Draco poked fun at, challenged, picked as a partner in class. He confided in Harry. He trusted Harry. He respected Harry.

And Harry finally understood.

“Draco?”

“What?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Draco scowled before raising his eyebrows and shaking his head in exasperation as he shoved his hands further into his pockets. He laughed, it was cool and a touch uncollected and Harry recognized it as Draco’s real laugh, not the high-pitched huff he exerted in front of the others. Strutting ahead of Harry, Draco continued chuckling. Harry smiled, it reminded him of dinner with Severus and Draco, of his little Slytherin family.

“You really are bloody hopeless, Harry.”

Harry caught up, smirking to himself. “So I’ve been told.” Harry looked sideways at Draco. “We are friends though, right?”

“Yes of course we’re friends, you twit. I’m taking you to the bloody dance tonight to watch out for your arse that will be looking at  _ Snape’s _ arse, aren’t I?”

“Oi! Quit it with that.”

Draco scoffed, slipping back into the easy farce that was Draco Malfoy, pureblood heir to the majestic and dark Malfoy Manor. 

“Never.” 

After a pause, a stern look crossed the pale features. Draco hefted out a sigh and Harry felt the deep tingle of trust and admiration pool in his belly. It was strange that after all these years of animosity, Draco and Harry could still so easily slip into a world of friendship. 

“You do bloody love him, don’t you?”

Harry grunted in affirmation, keeping his eyes trained to the floor. “Risky talk.”

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” They fell silent for a moment as Draco sighed again.

“I think, maybe after the war’s over, I’ll invite the two of you over for dinner. How does that sound, lover boy?”

Harry groaned but smiled over at Draco. “Sounds nice, actually. I’ll have to take you up on that.”

“Then don’t die, Harry Potter.”

“And Snape?”

“That old bat could never die.”

Harry laughed, suddenly feeling marginally better than he had in a long time. Who was he fooling? Snape would survive the war, he wouldn’t die easy.  _ Of course, he won’t. Bloody git will go down swinging and then raise back up just to scold someone on their poor potions score. He’ll be around long enough for me to annoy him for years to come.  _ Harry stepped through the entrance to the common room and nodded over at Blaise, the only other Slytherin that had not gone down to the Great Hall yet. 

“Blaise! Get your arse out of here. Potter and I will meet you there. Just go make sure they’re drinking punch and that you are there if they snap out of it.”

The boy mumbled something before disappearing out of the common rooms. 

“Spell yourself clean. I’ll leave your robes on your bed.”

“Whatever.”

“Potter…”

Harry waved him off and began casting spells to clean out the sweat lingering on his skin. Glancing down at his watch and feeling lucky, he trotted off to the showers, leaving a fuming Draco behind. His shower was quick and he dried off with the flick of his hand, grateful for some of the wandless spells he had been learning. He quickly hopped into the clothes laid out for him, half dressing as Draco dragged him from the common room and down to the Great Hall. They still managed to arrive five minutes early.

“If we had not arrived early I would have…”

“I know, lay off. At least  _ pretend _ all right? We’ll be the center of attention tonight.”

Draco huffed, “Aren’t we always?”

Harry’s mouth opened and then shut.  _ He isn’t wrong. If something’s going on the two of us are generally always there. If someone isn’t staring at my scar they’re staring at his blonde hair. _ Harry looked up, making a face.  _ It does look nice.  _

A soft hand slapped him on the back of his head. “Take my arm.”

“Why am I supposed-”

“Oh shut up, Potter.”

Clamping his mouth shut, Harry grabbed Draco’s elbow with his hand and let himself be led into the Great Hall. As they entered, Harry felt his throat tighten in panic. This was not the room he had left fifteen minutes ago. No, this room was full to bursting with chaos. Students were huddled around tables, cluttered up on a dance floor with no music. The walls held twirling, climbing vines and thousands of flowers beneath a frosty, starry sky. But all the eyes were on Harry and Draco.

He couldn’t help it, he shuffled a half-step closer to Draco, pressed himself shoulder to shoulder as he took in the rabid expressions of the Gryffindors. Half had their hands moving towards their wand, the other half crouched in a feral position ready to charge. The cold eyes of the Ravenclaws held no sparkle, only a brutish intelligence that saw this all as a petty little experiment. The Hufflepuffs looked at the ground. And the proud Slytherin were slipping in behind Harry and Draco, wands at the ready and eyes calling for a fight. 

Draco’s mouth hardly moved as he whispered, “Big turnout.”

“It’s everyone.” 

The pale blonde nodded slowly. “Lions.”

“Ready to be fed.”

Draco reached over and lay his hand atop Harry’s for a moment. “They’ll have to starve.”

By the time the pair reached the dance floor, the orchestra had gathered and they were dancing, Draco in the lead. The entire time they spent dancing around the ballroom, all ten minutes, were spent mocking one another will plastering false looks of interest on their faces. When they had done their due duty, they snuck off together, administering punch to all of the students they could find. The last two, of course, were the ones least willing. Hermione ended it in a huff as she tossed back her drink alongside Ron. The faces of the two began to crumble.

“Harry I-”

Draco reached out and hooked Hermione around the waist while Harry casually held his wand against Ron’s ribcage.

“Oi, Granger. That’s my date your moving in on.”

“Your...what?”

She started to talk again but Draco roughly pushed her away from Harry.

“No. You don’t get to talk to him tonight after what you did.” Draco pushed in close, but Harry could still hear regardless of the volume. “You don’t get to hurt him tonight, you little bitch. He deserves a night, at least one, where he isn’t bothered by the likes of you two and your pathetic sob story. Dinner, two weeks. Discuss it with Professor Snape. For now, go fucking talk to your lions.”

Draco pulled back, ignoring whatever sniffled response Hermione gave him. 

“Take your Weasel boyfriend and get out my sight.”

Ron took a look at Harry but nodded and turned around. “I’ll...see you later mate.” Ron waved and wrapped an arm around Hermione as they shuffled off and into the crowd of people. Harry could see the bare back of Hermione trembling as she walked away.

“That wasn’t so hard.”

Harry laughed, any trace of sorrow for his friends lifting into the night. “No, I guess it wasn’t. Bloody weird that is.”

“Hm, it’s my presence. Someone needs to point your arse in the right direction.” Draco held out his hand. “We need to dance a while longer, ten minutes, maybe fifteen if no one sees us.”

“Yeah, then what? We leave? We have like three hours left.”

“No, no, lover boy.”

“Merlin, maybe I’ll kill you after all.”

Draco held out his hand and took Harry back onto the crowded dance floor.

Chuckling in his ear he said, “You must be fun at parties.”

“Don’t go very much.”

“Right, of course. Prissy Potter.”

“Draco…” 

Draco laughed again. It was an easy sound when it was so quiet, almost as if it rumbled out of his throat without even the thought of permission.

“Have fun tonight, Harry.”

“I can’t.”

The easy sway of the song lulled Harry into a comfortable position and he found himself actually leaning against Draco Malfoy who was quietly moving them in a circle. When they turned enough so that all Harry could see was Severus sitting at a table staring woefully down into a glass of wine, he couldn’t help but let out a small little whine. He wanted so badly to grab that man’s hand and be led around the dance floor with him just as he had been that night in the dungeon. He wanted the world to see the power that slept between them, the goodness that had always blossomed within Severus.

Harry didn’t even notice that Draco had completely stopped dancing. Severus looked up and Harry met those dark eyes. He didn’t need to use legilimency to see the deep devastation wounding the pale man. Pain, regret, and longing were etched into the barren plains of those obsidian eyes. Harry didn’t notice until he cracked his elbow against an armrest that Draco had sat him down. He had both hands placed on Harry’s knees, his head was bowed.

“Come here.”

Ducking, and feeling incredibly foolish, Harry bent his head down.

“What am I doing, Malfoy?”

“Malfoy now is it?”

“Draco!”

“Any spell will draw attention over here. You want to dance with Snape, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t bloody matter if I do want to. I can’t. He’s a professor and Dumbledore will call out how inappropriate that is. No self-respecting Gryffindor would go against Dumbledore.”

“But you aren’t a self-respecting Gryffindor are you?” Harry didn’t answer. A long silence stretched between them.

_ No, I’m not a self-respecting Gryffindor at all. I never have been. I cheated the hat to get the way I wanted. I’ve used deception and trickery every step of the way in fighting Voldemort and I’ve used friends to get something I need. Even if it was for safety, that isn’t the most Gryffindor thing I’ve done. _

_ Gods, I’ve been living in the dungeons. I’m not a self-respecting Gryffindor at all!  _ A voice bit back,  _ But you are a self-respecting Slytherin. Slytherin to the core. _

“Draco!”

“Late as always, Potter.”

“What if...what if I asked McGonagall too? She’s had the potion by now, she keeps trying to smile at me. And...Slughorn?”

“Good calls. Slughorn will say no, so Snape makes good sense next.” Draco sat up abruptly. “There may be hope for you yet. I’m going to find Blaise,” he said, winking at Harry. “I’ll be watching you, don’t worry.”

“Even if you two are off snogging?”

“Jealous it isn’t your lips I’m after?”

Harry waved him off and stood but before he could go after McGonagall, Draco pulled Harry into a fierce hug. Hesitantly, Harry reciprocated. Many shocked eyes were on the two as the genuine act of affection, coming from Malfoy of all people, startled the Great Hall. 

“Enjoy yourself, Harry.”

With a soft nod, Harry left Draco and stalked off to Professor McGonagall who gladly accepted his offer to dance. They shuffled softly about the dance floor as the older woman whispered apologies in his ear. He laughed them all away and talked to her as they danced. None of the information was private, but his professor appeared to appreciate it nonetheless. She thanked him with a gentle tap on the back as he led her back to her seat. Snape cocked his head as his pink lips parted. Harry’s green eyes sparkled as he maintained strong eye contact with Snape, even as he asked Slughorn if he were interested in a dance. 

Slughorn smiled but shooed him away with little convincing needed. Dumbledore tilted his head back and stroked his beard but Harry only smiled, asking both Hagrid and Madam Pomfrey if they were interested in a dance. Hagrid balked and declined quickly while Madam Pomfrey squinted her eyes and looked over to Snape. She gave Harry a small hug and said, “I’ve known that man a long time, Harry. I’ve known you both for a long time.” Harry nodded, unsure of the implications but pleased she was happy anyway. She pulled away with tears in her eyes that evaporated as she turned back to face the rest of the room.

The world slowed its tempo as Harry lifted his mop of hair to stare up at Severus. Each step felt like a mile as he strode across the tiled floor, his own dress robes billowing behind him. The bodies scurried off to the sides of the room as he stalked closer to Severus who currently had the strangest expression on his face. His eyebrows were high, his mouth open, and every wrinkle on his face it seemed had smoothed out, leaving him no regrets or heavy burdens but only a fresh expression of hope and want. 

Harry did not smile. Not as he took in the glorious back robes that Snape wore. Not as he noticed the hands twitch in his direction. Not even as Severus Snape’s black eyes began to glitter with an unmistakable emotion, the very one setting fireworks off in Harry’s body as he approached. With every clack of his shoes, another pair of eyes swiveled to look at him. Harry Potter, the Chosen One, had that signature determination in his eyes. He was a force. And he was laying his claim to happiness now in front of friends and foes.

Toe to toe with Severus, Harry nodded his head and extended his hand. His cheeks did not blush, nor did his posture falter. For once in his life, Harry Potter knew what it was he needed to do and he had no problem doing it.

“Care to dance, Professor?”

Severus stood without taking Harry’s hand. His face had fallen back into its set ways but this time, his lips quirked into a small smirk. 

“You cheeky, cheeky brat.”

Harry could feel the eyes of the school boring into the back of his head. The obsidian eyes twinkled with a spark of mischief, Harry caught it. Then one of the pale hands came up and slapped Harry’s hand away. For one moment, one heartbreakingly long moment, Harry thought everything was over. He could even hear Draco start strutting towards the two, ready to dive in and save Harry.  _ Call it a dare. A joke. Call it anything Draco other than what it is. Rejection. _

“Mr. Potter,” Snape’s voice snapped Harry’s slowly sinking head back up. The dark eyes swallowed Harry like the night sky. “It is inappropriate for a student to ask a professor to dance.”

“I-”

“Let me finish.” Severus paused, dramatically lifting his hand as he spoke. “The elder asks.” A pink tongue darted out as the black eyes did a brief sweep of the room before flickering down to Harry who nodded, imperceptible to all but Severus who pulled his shoulders back together as he stood up taller. “Harry Potter,” he said, his voice carrying across the pin-drop silent room. “Would you care to have this dance?”

“Yes, Professor.” 

Placing his tan hand in the elegant, pale one. The thumb rubbed over the back of Harry’s hand as Snape led the younger wizard out onto the dance floor. Draco stood beside Blaise off to the side with a big smile on his face. His eyebrows waggled as he watched. Harry caught McGonagall clasping a hand to her chest, her eyes filled with tears and a delicate smile on her face. Harry had never seen the stern woman so full of warmth. He thought to check the appearance of Dumbledore but before he knew it, Severus flicked his wand and the music was slowly beginning. 

Then, finally, the world did stop. Severus pulled Harry into his chest and, before joining the rapidly approaching rhythm of the song, bowed his head low. His lips puffed hot air onto Harry’s ear as he said, “You must trust me.”

“Always.”

A firm hand pushed on the small of Harry’s back as Severus began to move. Together they wove through the crowd like a renegade river. The world swirled around them as Severus expertly guided through them the entire Hogwarts collection of staff and students but all Harry could see were the long black locks of impossibly soft hair flipping back, exposing the soft, untouched neck. The dark pools of black turned back to Harry as he spun them past Dumbledore. Inside those black eyes were specks of honey and this close, Harry could see that those eyes weren’t black at all but deep, welcoming chocolate. 

Startled gasps rose from the crowd of students as everyone watched Snape adeptly gallop across the room as if he himself had crafted it for this purpose and this purpose alone. Beneath the stars the two darkly dressed men spun and spun, their passion leaking out of their spirits and infusing the Great Hall with a tremendous sense of love. Little by little, students began rejoining the dance floor. Severus slowed and the grand tour of the ballroom ended.

Harry pressed his head to Snape’s chest and smiled. The gentle rock side to side combined with the steady, rapidly slowing thumping in Harry’s ear lulled him into a state of pure ecstasy. This moment, he knew, would be the moment he called to mind the next time an occasion arrived for his Patronus. The thin arms wound more tightly around Harry before letting go and stepping back. 

_ Merlin, he looks happy. Oh gods, I probably look like an idiot. _ Harry fought for control over his face but ended up rolling his eyes and laughing.

“Harry, I will be retiring. That is quite enough excitement for one night.”

“I’ll...I’ll be in shortly. I don’t really...that was all.” _Telling him when I'm coming home now. Sound like a bloody married couple_.

“Yes, quite.” Snape cocked his head before smirking to himself and strutting down the hallway to his rooms. Harry watched him go until Draco came up and smiled. Blaise, looking a little green around the edges was clinging to his arm.

“Harry, need an arm out?” Draco offered his arm. Harry gladly took it.

“That’d be great. What’s up with Blaise.”

“Oi, Potty.” Blaise was slurring and also waving. Harry waved back.

“He got a hold of something, I’m not sure what. Madam Pomfrey already promised to meet me down there with the idiot in a few minutes. Thought I’d walk you out.”

“Self-serving as always.”

“As always.” Draco grinned. “Come on, lo-”

“Say it and I’ll hex your mouth shut.”

The gray eyes assessed the situation before falling into that cool laugh again, effortlessly moving towards the door with both boys clinging to him, Harry in laughter and Blaise in fear of collapse.

“I won’t say it. Tonight. But tomorrow…”

Harry groaned and shoved at Draco. Waving a tentative goodbye to Ron and Hermione, who were sat huddled by the entrance looking rather sorry, Harry left. 

When he had said goodbye to his friends and tramped back to his little dungeon home, he wasn’t surprised to see Severus fully clothed standing in the middle of the room, waiting. Instead of scolding, he got a massive, honest laugh from Severus. Soon, the man was leaning backward, clutching at his stomach and opening his neck to the world as he guffawed. It was a beautiful sight and Harry decided that he would very much like to see this more often.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“You, Harry.”

“What about me?”

Severus pulled himself together and continued much to Harry’s dismay as he would have liked to watch him continue enjoying himself.  _ Liquor is your soft spot, Snape. _

“You asked me to dance, you blithering idiot.” Snape walked over and put his hands on Harry’s shoulders. Those eyes that had just been crinkled around the edges with joy now held a depth of sadness even Harry struggled to understand. “You have a habit of giving me things I must cherish. I fear I will have too many someday. Then…” Snape paused, looking down into the depths of Harry’s soul. “Then I will never be able to be rid of you. Brat.”

Harry’s heart clenched. “You’ll never be rid of Harry Potter.”

Snape quirked his head. “No, I suppose not.” Taking several steps back and smiling softly off to the side, Snape turned abruptly and headed towards the bathroom. “I am showering first. Be useful and heat us up some hot chocolate.”

He didn’t respond, didn’t have to. Knew Severus liked his hot chocolate bitter, more cocoa than sugar and enough peppermint to knock old Saint Nick out cold. But tonight as Harry warmed up the milk and tossed in the ingredients, he knew something else. 

_ He was happy. Shocked and scared but bloody happy.  _ He chuckled to himself.  _ I danced with Severus Snape because Draco practically told me to be more Slytherin.  _ The laughter died out as steam curled into the air.  _ He loves me. He must.  _ Harry closed his eyes, casting a warming charm on the drinks and waiting for Snape to return.

Harry would never forget that night, he was certain. He had tasted a dream and vowed to never let it go. Smiling to himself as he poured the liquid into cups, he rested a hand on his heart. It was tingly and tight and Harry never wanted to feel any other way ever again. Even after the magic of the dance, all he wanted was to curl up in his chair and listen to Severus ramble.  _ Love. This is love.  _ The feeling cinched around his heart and pulled tight. And all Harry could do was lose his head in the clouds and smile. He would enjoy this night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! It's really, really late I know. I'm a half-hour into Saturday :( But! I stayed up late to make sure this chapter was done well. I've been spending so much time on the next four chapters (they're really important) that I wanted to make sure this one had the right amount of care and love put into it. 
> 
> Anyway, really hope you guys enjoy this one! Wrapping up some mini storylines within the story this chapter! Tell me what you think! Thanks for the support. And sorry I'm so late today. Next week's chapters will be up earlier in the day.


	15. Love Is Whispered

It was pleasant in the dungeons. Cool despite the touch of summer smothering the castle. The drowning humidity swimming in the corridors hadn’t reached Harry’s sanctuary down in Snape’s rooms and he was glad he could relax without suffering the sweltering heat of Gryffindor Tower.  _ No wonder the Slytherins are always so cool and collected. Bloody easy when you aren’t stuck in a stuffy tower. _ He stretched languidly on the couch, enjoying the cool air ghosting across his exposed stretch of skin as his shirt rode up. He tugged it down, smiling absently at the abs laying under his touch. Finally, this year he'd been able to eat enough to grow in height and strength. He looked over as Snape stalked off to his bedroom. He had been in a sour mood all evening, though Harry couldn't blame him. _Wonder if Ron or Hermione is right about that gift I got him. Hermione's never really been wrong but I think she's wrong this time. Ron and Draco'll have a good go at making her never forget that._

He frowned at the niggle of grief worming its way into his heart. This was his last night here with Severus.

Harry shook his head, not willing to think about what that meant.

The past several months had been a blur. After the dance, the remainder of the school year had buzzed by at an alarming pace. Hermione and Ron had apologized a hundred times over but Harry, despite his nonchalant attitude, couldn’t accept their words and the pair picked up on that. Try as they might, they couldn’t even begin to soothe the pain in his chest and Harry found that, even after dinner with Hermione, Ron, Snape, and Draco, he didn’t really want that much to do with them. He had friends, loyal ones at that, and none of them were in Gryffindor Tower. He kept to the Slytherin quarters and continued bickering with the Malfoy heir. 

Draco poked and prodded at Harry in ways that infuriated him beyond belief but gave him a sense of normalcy to cling to. But even Draco had mellowed. The two boys spent many hours studying, joking, and getting up to trouble, much to Snape's dismay. Draco still hadn't stopped calling Harry lover boy and Harry scowled at all of Slytherin when they laughed with Draco. But Harry wasn't even remotely close to mad. Draco smiled easily and everyone in Slytherin seemed grateful to Harry. He was their reprieve from their own madness with the Dark Lord. He was family there. They took care of him. He, at the very least, felt safe there. Harry knew he could never thank Draco enough for continuing to stick by his side and point out how useless those Gyrffindors were but he supposed the tickets he gave him to an upcoming Quidditch tournament went a long way to expressing his gratitude to someone he now considered his best mate.

Snape’s bedroom door banged open, rattling the bookshelves. Harry flinched, readying his wand in case his gift, glamoured heavily and hidden atop one of them, fell off. It did not and Harry relaxed his grip on his wand. Harry sat on the couch watching Severus pace between the kitchen and the living area. Tomorrow he would have to go and leave this sanctuary, leave Severus. He hadn’t expected it to hurt this much. After all, at the start, he had thought it a joke. Now, Harry couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. No brewing on the weekends. No movies. No midnight adventures into the Forbidden Forest or to Hagrid’s for tea. Harry had a life here with Severus, a real life full of joy and sorrow, excitement and dread. Severus had given him so much and Harry wasn't sure what would happen once he left. All he knew was that this would never be the same. Unless he married Snape at which point he supposed they'd be living together.

Harry pushed that thought away as soon as it arose.

The past six months had been a gift, one he would always cherish. He and Severus had gotten along swimmingly, save the occasional argument which sent Snape out to patrol the halls. Harry couldn’t even remember the last time Severus had actually stormed out on him to patrol the halls once he discovered it hurt Harry's feelings. Their routine was solid, despite Dumbledore’s maniacal schemes which had died off quite suddenly after the dance. In the past two months, neither Voldermort nor Dumbledore had called on Severus, much to his dismay. Harry, on the other hand, had been glad though he understood the implications. A spy out of the loop.

Still, Harry was happy to have Severus to himself. Too many nights he had coaxed the man to come back to the world of the living. Harry shuddered as he remembered some of the wounds gracing Severus. It had been a rough year and he was glad to be on what he thought was the other side of it even with the looming threat of returning to the Dursleys. The sad pain niggled again. 

_ Merlin, I’ll miss him. _

He sighed. Severus continued pacing as he had on and off most of the night mumbling to himself and cursing quietly. Harry had nagged him to stop once earlier on but Snape only threw up his hands and continued his loop. 

_ Bet he’s angry he couldn’t get me out of that house. Not his fault though. Dumbledore sure isn’t making his life very easy. Turned every Gryffindor and their parents against him. Snape really was right, the courageous are too eager to fight, regardless of the cause. _

For the past half hour, Snape kept his pacing limited to a lap around the kitchen and living room. When Harry saw him head towards the bedroom he sat up on the couch.

“Don’t go.”

Stopping in his tracks, Snape said, “I assumed you may like some peace and quiet to yourself.”

“I like it when you’re around, even if you are pacing like a bloody lunatic. Tonight… well, I have to go back tomorrow. I don’t want… For the next…” He grunted and cut himself off. “Stay?”

Snape did something Harry had not heard in a long time. “You are such a fool, Potter.”

_ My last name.  _

“Hey, woah. What’s going on?”

“You are about to get on that damn train and enter that house for the remainder of this summer while the rest of us fight against the Dark Lord.” Severus shook his head. “While  _ I _ fight against him and fight to keep Albus from killing you the first chance he gets and you are hardly upset about it. You haven't thought enough about the implications. Will you be starved again? Will the Dark Lord arrive now that he has learned your location? Will that pig of a man...ah!” Snape cut himself off with a harsh scream. "I have failed you."

“I’ll be okay. You haven’t-”

“I have! I have failed you, Potter. I have failed to keep you safe. You have been beaten bloody within the walls of the safest magical structure known in the wizarding world under my supervision. I have allowed you to return to that filthy Muggle home. I haven't stopped Albus or the Dark Lord and _both_ are keen on your destruction. I have failed to protect you too many times to be forgiven.You were nearly murdered by the Dark Lord  _ twice _ under my care this year, Harry.”

The use of his first name cracked something inside Harry. It was sad and broken hearing the way it fell from Snape’s lips. It didn’t take a legilimens to see how hurt Severus was over this. Harry opened his mouth to speak but Snape continued yelling.

“For months, I have schemed and plotted and made deals I am rather not proud of all for naught. I have tried to the utmost of my ability to keep you safe. I have failed to protect you. I have only made your life worse and I fear that by disrupting Albus and the Dark Lord as I have they will take out their frustration on you. I have failed you, Harry.”

Harry waited until the dark eyes turned on him. He laughed and said, “Boy, you’re gonna wanna smack me for this.” Snape looked at him, confused. Harry felt the walls lowering as Severus’ rage diminished. “Legilimens!”

Harry was determined and as such managed a full two seconds inside of Snape’s head, a new record. When he was closed out, he hoped that he had imparted what he wanted to. They had played this game before and it often ended with Harry being hexed and forbidden to seek treatment until Snape was satisfied he’d learned his lesson. 

_ If I’m juicing flobberworms for the next ten years, I’ll take it. Severus, you needed to see what you’ve given me. These last six months have been the best bloody months of my life, Snape. I don’t care that you’ve failed, you’ve succeeded in so many other ways. I’m happy. I have a home. I feel...loved. _

Snape smoothed a hand over his gray sweater. “That was awfully Slytherin of you, Harry.” Clearing his throat he said, “I dislike the ease with which you do that.”

“Feels good sometimes.”

“Tut, tut. That is no way for a Gryffindor to talk.”

“Neither is Parseltongue.”

Snape cocked his head and gave Harry a soft smile before walking over. Joining Harry on the couch this time, Harry was suddenly overwhelmed by the suddenness of Snape’s scent surrounding him. He inhaled slowly, fighting against the smile pulling on his lips. Harry licked his lips, realizing just how infatuated he had become with this man. Breathing in again, Harry felt a flutter of wings in his belly.

They had not sat like this since he had drunkenly touched Snape’s leg. 

_ Boy did I misread that. Can’t believe he fell over the table trying to get away from me. _ Harry’s heart felt a crack inside it widen.  _ He cares. He does, don’t forget both those times he saved your arse. Just maybe not like you do.  _ And then the whispered words filled Harry's head again. _"I would." But he can't, can he? Not now. Not when I'm his student and not when he'll get killed for loving me._

Harry couldn’t help but fear that Snape still harbored hate towards him, even though the past few months had proven the opposite. In the past several months, Harry had seen past his prejudice. He had learned about Severus, his humor, and the thinly veiled compassion that hid in his heart. Where Harry had once seen a coward he now saw the bravest man he knew. Where mysterious shadows once clouded his judgment, Harry knew the goodness of Snape’s character with certainty. Snape had even sat idly letting Ron and Hermione eat like cretins at his dinner table while Harry, Draco, and himself minded their manners.

_ That was a bloody good idea though. Snape looked like he had a heart attack when he cracked a joke and Ron spat butterbeer all over the table. Kept the stain in the carpet though. Hasn’t spelled it away even though he could and I'm sure he told Dobby not to touch it. Gods, he's even friends with the house-elf now. Guess all their scheming maybe them, friends?  _ Harry snorted to himself. The year had certainly turned out interestingly. 

This close to Severus, Harry could see every fine line, every story etched in the man’s face. He was striking. He could even make out the nearly invisible border between pupil and iris. Everything on the man’s face contradicted itself. Dark eyes and hair but skin kissed by moonlight. Angular jaw and nose but soft, plump lips. Harry scooched closer until their thighs and shoulders bumped together. This close he was wrapped in the warm smell of Snape.

_ Merlin, I’ll miss him so much.  _

“You’re staring at me, Harry.”

“I’m not! I mean, I am. But I’m not… It isn’t… Look, sometimes I like… I’m not staring.”

Snape snorted. “Eloquent as ever. Accio Snape’s chocolate.” The box of chocolates flew over and Snape frowned waving his wand, another object flew over, this time wrapped in cloth. 

“Oh! Did you get me something?” Snape blinked his eyes slowly and lowered them to the items in his lap. He opened the lid and Harry grabbed a chocolate without asking and called something over. From the top of the bookcase a small, purple, velvet sack flew out to him. He held it in his hands.

“I don’t think you’ll have any need for this really and I was worried that I’d never get the chance to… Not like I’m going to…”  _ I hope I’m not going to. _ “But I won’t have your protection over the summer, not like here really. So I just thought… Oh, bollocks. I'm bad at this. Here.”

Harry handed him the purple sack and watched with wrapped attention as the delicate hands tugged the string open. In reached the nimble fingers and when they pulled out the object, they began to tremble. It was a small stag Patronus, running in a lazy loop around a palm-sized forest. Behind it, ran a doe and all throughout the forest, hanging from trees like apples were ghost orchids made of stardust. 

Gulping Harry said, “It’s my Patronus. Not my dad’s, there’s actually a little bit of a difference in the horns I guess.” He laughed nervously. “Anyway, the doe is you. Just didn’t want you to forget that we had a nice time, I guess. And it’s infused with my magic. Just in case you need a little bit of Harry Potter luck. Haven’t died yet!”

“No, I suppose you haven’t.”

Then Snape was silent, his dark eyes watching the two patronuses romp around the forest beneath the thin layer of protective magic. The doe paused to eat grass and the stag quickly returned to her side. The same glassy appearance Harry had seen once before rose in Snape’s eyes now as he looked at the gift. Harry watched the shoulders lift up and fall down with a heavy sigh.

“Do you like it?”

Snape’s free hand landed on Harry’s leg while he never took his eyes off the gift. “I will cherish it, always.”

Harry fell silent. He looked at the gift and smiled.  _ I guess I did all right. Hermione said it’d be way too much but it felt good. Even Ron sided with me on this one, thought that the bat might smile. Draco slapped me but hugged me too, so I guess that was his approval. It felt...right. _

“I had hoped that you would not be forced to return.” There was an unspoken sentiment hanging in the air, that Severus had hoped he could have saved Harry. “But my hopes were misplaced.”

“No, it’s okay. You did everything you could.”

“You placed your trust in me, Harry. I may not have prevented tomorrow from happening, but I will prevent you from further abuse at the hands of your uncle.” Snape set the gift Harry had given him on the coffee table with a forlorn smile before grabbing his own package. Holding the gift out to Harry he sighed heavily. “I had hoped I would not have had to give this to you.”

Peeling back the layers of cloth, Harry revealed a small ring with two silver snakes wrapping around one another. One held an onyx for an eye, the other an emerald. Tinkering with it, he noticed that the snakes moved slightly. The eyes twinkled in the dim light of the room and Harry felt his breath promptly whisked from his lungs. Slipping it onto the middle finger of his left hand, the snakes pulled together tightly. Adjusted to his finger, he smiled at the sudden warmth enveloping him. This too had some of Snape’s magic embedded in it.

“It will keep you safe. Should you need me, simply pinch the head of the snakes together. It will alert me wherever I am.” He held up a plain black ring that, as soon as he slipped it over his fingers, shimmered and disappeared. “The ring is tied to my magical signature so you will not set any alarms off at the ministry.”

“Snape… Thank you. I can’t-”

“Don’t start your blathering. I’ve heard quite enough of it for one night.”

“Oh, you love my blathering.”

“Perhaps.” Harry’s green eyes widened.

“I love brewing.”

The dark eyes twinkled with fire before they went back to looking at the gift.

“You have surprised me, Harry.” The long arm tightened around Harry’s shoulder as Severus pulled the gift back into his lap. “It has not been miserable sharing your company.”

_ Might as well bloody propose with words like that.  _ Harry smiled.

“Gee thanks. Hasn’t been hell with you either.”

The dark eyes crinkled up as he snorted in amusement. "I am glad that you asked Dumbledore to resume your Occlumency lessons."

_Glad._ Harry's breath came out ragged in surprise. _He's glad? He's glad._ _I made Snape happy._ Something warm and full burst in Harry's chest as he looked up at the dark eyes and soft smile. _I love him._ Severus sucked in a deep breath and pulled Harry a little closer. Harry snuggled down, resting his head against the strong shoulder and yawning.

The two stayed like that for a long time, enjoying the chocolates and the serenity the silence of the rooms gave them. Harry slowly drifted off, head against a firm shoulder as he held onto his ring tightly. The quiet of the dungeon room shrouded Severus. Looking down at the boy, who was curled up against his side, the older man drew in a long, soothing breath and squeezed lightly, his thumb rubbing circles on Harry’s shoulder. The aroma of a fresh rain lingering in a forest with the tang of dark chocolate cherries filled his nostrils. The tears pricking the edges of his eyes remained, unwilling to be spilled but impossible to forget. Severus was, for the first time in his life, truly happy.

_ Harry.  _

Something flipped in Snape’s stomach. Brushing it to the side, he watched the boy for several more breaths. The world was asking him to give up this happiness, this warm body curled against him. It was demanding he turn away from the hopeful green eyes and resume his life as if nothing had ever happened. As if he hadn't fallen in love with the boy-who-lived. Severus closed his eyes for a moment before staring at the mop of messy hair in his arms. He was no fool. The situation had changed dramatically since the start of the year and he was certain his chances of surviving the summer were slim.  This summer very well could spell his demise. The growing tension between his masters pulled at him. Neither trusted him the way he would like and Severus had the dangerous feeling that betrayal was in his cards. 

Feeling the sense of impending doom, he gave this moment to himself. He sat for several minutes in the silence, blanketed in Harry’s smell and feeling the heat radiate off the smaller body. Harry had been sleeping against him for a while already when something seized Snape's heart.

Leaning low, he whispered a soft, "I love you, Harry" into the mess of dark hair. The boy didn't stir, didn't even twitch. And Severus smiled. 

_I've at least told him. He will know when it is time._

With a sharp breath, he brought the moment to a close. Clearing his throat loud enough to startle Harry awake, he said,  “Would you like me to read?”

Harry eagerly nodded with a sleepy smile. "Didn't mean to fall asleep."

"As per usual."

Harry laughed and Severus clung to the sound.  Leaving the couch, Severus walked over to the bookshelf, finding this time that he wanted to hand-select the book. Picking the book he had first read to Harry, he relaxed into his wingback chair and set the fire ablaze. Harry stretched out across the couch, clutching his ringed hand near his heart as Snape began reading, yawning once more before closing his eyes and drifting back to sleep.

It took several hours, but Snape’s throat eventually dried and his eyes sagged. Walking over to the boy sleeping on the couch, Severus slipped his arms under the body and cradled him in his arms. Carrying him to the bedroom he’d created months back, Snape laid Harry under the dark red sheets. Leaving the boy without a hug and ignoring the urge to chastely touch lips to lips, Snape left. At the threshold, he stared back at the room decorated in stone, deep reds, and golden fixtures. He smiled at the lopsided stuffed lion resting at the foot of the bed.

_ As Gryffindor as I’ll allow this place to become.  _

Shutting the door he smiled realizing he would miss Harry terribly. Heading to his own rooms he finally gave in to the feelings in his heart. Crawling into bed, Severus curled up into a tight ball as he wrapped his arms around his midsection. The tears finally began to fall, slipping into the night silently as Snape's body jerked with the force of his quiet sobs. Trails of tears rolled over the hooked nose, sparkling beneath the moonlight creeping in through the enchanted window. He was losing his one good thing. 

_ I will let no harm come to you, Harry. I will protect you until my dying breath not for Lily, but for you, Harry Potter. For me. I am afraid that I cannot live without your ruthless chaos.  _ He wiped the tears off the edge of his nose before the second wave of pain washed over him.  _ I love you, Harry. I will love you until my last breath. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, I know but tell me what you think!! Harry's going back to that awful family. Poor Severus :( he really tried. The next chapter is a long one! Hope you guys liked this one and thank you all so much for the kudos and the comments and all your wonderful support :D


	16. Broken Goodbyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I don’t do notes at the start very often, but I am this time. I have just a little something to ask. We’ve been together now for fifteen full chapters and I haven’t led you astray. It’s a hard ask, I know, but I’m asking you to trust me. I do know what I'm doing and there is a conclusion. Love you guys and thanks so much for reading and for your support. Since next week is Thanksgiving here, I'll be uploading an extra chapter for everyone. Anyway, here you are!

"Dammit, Snape. I can't find my lion."

Snape's snort of amusement turned Harry's venomous glare onto him. Softly holding his hands up, the dark eyes twinkled before he said, "I believe I saw you shrink it before placing it in your chest." Harry cast a haphazard glance at the already locked up chest.

"If it isn't there..."

"If I find your mangey little mutt, I will set it aside for when you return in the fall."

Harry huffed, clearly annoyed at losing his stuffed animal. It was the only remnant of his childhood with his parents and not even his aunt and uncle were messed up enough to steal that away from him though, now that he returned for the summers only, they kept it stowed out of reach. But it was kept safe nonetheless. He scowled as he headed towards the door.

"You gonna see me off?"

"I never wish the students farewell."

"Oh." 

Severus was over to Harry in several long steps. Indecision disrupted the apathetic features. But then he blinked, long and slow, and Harry knew how terrible Severus was feeling. The long wrapped around Harry as Severus pulled him into an awkward hug. Weight began tugging on his pocket as Snape slipped something into his robes.

"You brewed them, Harry. They belong to you."

Pulling out of the hug, Harry didn't need to pull the strange little round vials out of his pocket. Only nutritional potions were kept in those containers. _He's fussing over me._ One elegant hand reached down and plucked something off Harry's shoulder with a hiss. _Really fussing. Bet he'll miss having me around._

With a sheepish grin, Harry said, "Thanks." He looked down at his watch, suddenly overwhelmed with sadness. "Better be off. That train doesn't even wait for me."

"Ah yes, how could it ignore the great Harry Potter?"

Harry looked back into the obsidian eyes and lunged at the Potions Master, wrapping his arms around the startled man. "I'm going to miss you." Snape sucked in a sharp breath and gently laid a hand on top of Harry's head. 

"It will be quiet."

Harry nodded against the chest before pulling away and sparing one last look at the rooms.

"Harry."

"Yeah?"

Snape's mouth turned in a sour expression as unsaid words curdled on his tongue. Harry could feel the words the man wanted to say but understood more than anyone else the impossibility of them reaching open air. Snape huffed and said, "Don't cause a ruckus." Then, he stormed off to his potions lab leaving Harry all by himself. Casting one final look around the room, Harry sighed and stepped out into the corridor to meet a very annoyed looking Draco.

"Bloody took you long enough. Let's go, Potter."

With that, Draco grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him to the Hogwarts Express. Summer had begun.

****************************************************

Harry had already spent one month caged up in the Dursley household when he found himself contemplating pressing the twin heads of the snake together. The only issue was he wasn't certain what the ring would do and was afraid that if he were to use it, he'd be unable to do so again. Given his current predicament, he didn't think it worth the risk. His stay was terrible, but not as terrible as usual. This time, he had lost access to his precious upstairs room and was shoved into the cupboard below the stairs. He shouldn’t have been surprised what with Sirius dead and Dumbledore not concerned about his wellbeing but it still stung. The cobwebs weren’t as welcoming as they used to be and he had long ago outgrown the cramped space. Harry hardly believed he was once able to comfortably fit in there. But Harry was used to this. If he was in the cupboard, he had thought when first arriving, maybe Vernon wouldn’t want him for those  _ other _ activities.

So far, Harry had been lucky. 

Sure, he was living off scraps and water with access to the bathroom only twice a week but it was better than hearing that belt buckle hit the floor every night.

He’d lost track of the days, catching up only when he was allowed out to cook or clean where he could snag a look at the calendar. Harry spent most of his time curled in a corner or stretched out slightly on his side. There wasn’t enough room to straighten out by any means, but enough to relieve the pressure on his knees. It hadn’t been wonderful, but for living in the cupboard under the stairs practically as an adult he thought he could be doing worse. Admittedly, he had lost all the weight he had worked to put on at Snape’s even despite the several nutritional potions Severus had shoved in his pockets before the train departed. In fact, those potions had already saved Harry several times. As much as he tried to ration them out, Harry knew that going more than a week without food spelled trouble.

As per usual, Harry had been beaten bloody and verbally degraded something terrible but Vernon hadn’t touched him yet. Not in the way Harry dreaded. Every night when Harry slunk back to his room under the stairs after cooking everyone dinner, he smiled. Only bruises. Bruises, cuts, even broken bones he could handle. He was almost excited to have black eyes. Anything other than ugly handprints on his hips and throat. 

Tonight, however, Harry was in a bad way. Curled in on himself, arms around his belly, Harry quietly cursed to himself. He couldn’t afford using any of the nutritional potions after just four days of missed meals, regardless of what his stomach was saying. Rationing out the potions would prevent him from meeting an untimely end, he was sure and he still had several more months to go. 

_ Snape would kill me if I used up all his potions a month in. Gods. But I’m so bloody hungry. Got plain spoiled with that dungeon bat. Fed every meal of every day. Forgot to lower my food quantities. Always helped with coming home. No, coming back. This isn’t home. Home is with him. If only I’d been smarter. Never smart enough.  _

But now he was a month into his stay and hurting. He’d lost all the weight he’d gained and then some. The scraps he’d been given were less than they had been in the past and he was significantly older, taller. There was more body to maintain. Harry combed a trembling hand through his hair before dropping it down with a huff. He was weaker than he’d ever been. He sighed, remembering all the laughs and conversations he had shared with Snape.

_ Made him choke on his wine that one night. _ Harry smiled, tightening his arms around his middle.  _ Told him that gag about a man’s index finger to his thumb and their dick. The wine shot straight out his mouth. _ The smile widened. _ He laughed at that one when he thought I wasn’t looking while I cleaned the wine off the floor “ _ **_By hand, Harry._ ** _ ” So stern, but still heard him laugh. And saw him check his hand too. “ _ **_You are pure chaos, Harry._ ** **”**

Harry snickered. Slamming a hand over his mouth quickly after. Lately, any noise he made resulted in punishment. He felt as if somehow wards had been put up around his safe haven. Vernon knew too well nowadays when Harry was laughing. Twice he’d been beaten until he couldn’t see because he had  _ whimpered _ . Vernon had never been so acutely aware. Considering the man was a full floor up and several rooms down, it didn’t make sense that he was able to hear Harry whimper. Given Dumbledore’s affiliations, Harry believed it well within reason to think there were wards up around the tiny little room. Not that he could check.

A pang of pain in his stomach was quickly followed by a rolling wave of nausea. Harry squinted his eyes shut, desperately wanting to avoid throwing up bile if he could avoid it. No matter how quickly he cleaned it, the vomit would stink up his only room for weeks.

_ Wonder what Snape is doing now. Probably reading by a fire somewhere. _ Harry felt the exhaustion of malnourishment wash over him.  _ Not yet. Don’t wanna sleep yet. Snape. Think about him. Reading by a fire, maybe cooking a stew or something. Cursing the potatoes for rolling away from him. _

He’d been fighting against this particular exhaustion for well over a day. His arms were cold and he couldn’t feel his fingers very well anymore. His stomach felt funny all the time, empty and full all at once. Scooching so that his back was against the wood and spiderwebs, Harry opened his eyes and stared into the darkness. He blinked away the patterns dancing in the room.

_ Miss him. Miss him so bad. _

It hurt so much more than he had expected it to. He brought his arms away from his belly and brought his hands together, touching the ring. It felt cool under his fingers and he could see a dim sparkle from the magical eyes of the twin snakes even in the blackness of the room. Harry brought the ring up to his lips, closing his eyes as the magic buzzed over the pink skin. The warm buzz reminded him of the few times he found himself snug in Snape’s arms.

_ Course I love the bugger. I’m mad. Absolutely deranged. _ Harry draped the hand across his cheek, resting the ring there and remembering the times Snape had run his knuckles over the flesh more used to beatings than caresses.  _ Read to me every night. Snape, what would you read tonight?  _ Harry’s mind supplied a long list of titles. As he focused on the sound, he drifted off the way he had every night since he’d left, with the ring on his cheek and Snape’s phantom voice rocking him to sleep.

Hours later, Harry was being woken up by two meaty hands yanking on him hard. He clocked his head on the floor as he tumbled off a mattress of old clothes. Harry was being unceremoniously dragged out from his cupboard. In the daze of sleep and hunger, Harry tried to understand what was happening but his hungry brain struggled to understand the situation and was slow to wake up.

_ Vernon never wakes me up for anything, not this year at least. _

Even when Harry was being sexually abused, Vernon rarely woke him up without cause and not so deep in the night, especially without warning. Previously, if Harry had angered his uncle, he would have received a good beating followed by a promise whispered in his ear. But tonight, none of that had occurred. He hadn’t had to hear the drop of his uncle’s belt buckle to the floor this year yet, hadn’t even earned worse than normal beatings.

And still, something crackled in the air. Something vile and desperate. Something hungry whispered through the air as the meaty hands tightened their grip. Harry’s scar throbbed, spinning his world with flashes of night sky as his shirt rode up, the wood floor squeaking across his exposed flesh. 

_ He’s coming. Oh gods, Voldemort is coming. Vernon… I can’t let him take me tonight. I gotta stay in my room. _

“Come  _ here, _ boy.”

Harry groped at the walls in a desperate attempt to grab purchase of anything that could prevent him from slipping into the open air of the house. Desperately trying to reach his hands together to squeeze the ring, Harry whimpered as the nails dug into his skin. Flailing to no avail, Harry was flipped onto his back, cracking his head against the wall as he entered into the kitchen. A yelp popped from his lips and the hands around his ankles released him. Looking up at what he believed was his uncle, Harry realized at some point his glasses must have fallen to the floor. Patting the ground, Harry was taken unawares when something large and heavy cracked against his skull.

_ Fuck.  _

The world faded in and out of black. The large blob laced a hand through his hair and he suddenly felt like he was on a rollercoaster bumping up to the top. Harry’s arms felt heavy. They stayed glued to his side as he worked to keep his eyes from rolling back. Everything dipped and spun as Harry faded in and out. 

_Dudley’s bust. Must have been. Merlin. Get it together. Hands up. Come_ ** _on_** _, hands up._ One of his hands made it up to his neck where something warm was slipping down his spine. Bringing it up to his nose to see it Harry hissed in pain as he was tossed onto the floor of his old bedroom. _Blood. Oh fuck._ _I think this is bad._ The world swam in strange flashes around him as Harry fought for some sort of clarity. Cool, splintering wood slick with his own blood met his hands as he was dropped to the floor. _Upstairs. The bumping was the stairs. Okay. Harry, just get your hands together. The ring._ His body was slow to listen, his hands reluctant to obey.

Struggling to think, Harry was assaulted by sudden clarity as he heard a familiar belt buckle hit the floor. Two fat hands ripped his trousers off. Immediately reaching for the ring, he was surprised when two boots stepped onto his hands. His hips were lifted as he began panicking. 

_ No. No, no, no. Gods, no. It can’t be. _

Craning his head to see who the second party was, he saw only black robes before desperately trying to get his fingers out from underneath the boots which were now grinding into his hands. A second pain shot through his spine as his uncle entered him in an ugly, aggressive thrust without any preparation. Harry vomited across the dark boots but they showed no intention of moving away. 

Stars burst through Harry’s vision as he screamed, earning a hard knock to the kidneys from someone. The cold air of the house of horrors brushed across his back and chest as the rest of his clothes were spelled away. Ramming into the bony shins in front of him, he hung his head. A twisted agony turned his stomach, forcing more bile from his throat as his head exploded with Voldemort’s glee. His scar throbbed while tears dripped from his eyes, down his nose, and into the pile of blood and vomit sitting between the shoes. His uncle did something, changed something and Harry cried out more loudly as the pain ravished his body. 

Harry briefly felt the pressure on his right hand let up as he yelped. Knowing an opportunity when he saw one, he screamed more loudly on the next few thrusts. The pressure released enough that he was able to whip his hand from beneath the boot. Squeezing the snakeheads together, Harry began struggling with the sliver of hope that Snape might help him. Bucking, screaming, and doing anything to get the fat body out of him and the heavy boots from his hands, Harry fought against his assailants. Eventually, his right hand was recaptured by the boot.

A white hand, whiter than death came down and gripped his hair. Yanking backward, Harry looked up to see two angry red slits peering down at him.

“Good to see you again, Potter.”

_ I’m fucking dead.  _ Harry grit his teeth. “You.”

“Yes  _ me _ . Does this scene strike you as...familiar?”

_ Oh no, oh dammit. _ Harry felt fear rising in his chest. Knowing the bastard above him fed off it, he shoved it down. Thoughts of Severus and the snakes and everything the man had done to protect him in the past replaced it, while he occluded fiercely, letting only one thought slip free.  _ I’ll be fine. _

“I doubt that, young Harry.”

Harry watched as one of the pale hands disappeared into the robe. Harry pushed back, tearing the skin off his knuckles as he struggled against the boots. Severus coming to save him or not, Harry was no fool and knew he needed to do his best to get out on his own. A cock he was too familiar with presented itself while Harry’s mind did terrible somersaults.  _ I need to get away. _ The meaty hands secured his hips and Harry began moving backwards in a desperate attempt to get away from Voldemort’s cock. All he ended up doing was meeting his uncle’s thrusts and nearly vomiting at the moan he heard behind him. Severus still hadn’t shown. And before he knew it, the slick drops of precome were pressed against his lips.  _ I’m too weak. I can’t...I can’t get out of here. _ Harry knew what Voldemort wanted and Harry knew how he would die. He couldn’t fight back. 

A crack of magic rippled through the house and voices below, Death Eaters Harry was sure, began to scream out curses.

_ Severus. He’s here! _

The crack of multiple people apparating into the house turned something sour in Harry’s stomach.  _ More. There’s even more now. _ Thundering footsteps rocked the house. Harry yelled louder, spittle flying to the dark floor as he heard the echo of boots he’d listen run around Hogwarts. Snape was here. He was here to save Harry. And then, the chaotic echo of battle reached his ears. The flash of green unforgivables bounced around the room. Horrible screams twisted by pain and torture echoed through the house. Harry absently wondered if Petunia and Dudley were as afraid as he was.

More screams cracked through the air before a bellow he knew too well hit his ears. As his still slow brain caught up to the sounds and flashes of light, Harry felt his stomach drop as if he’d jumped off a building. He had called Severus here where all the Death Eaters were congregating. Where Voldemort was. He had brought the most most important man in his life into a place where the odds were stacked impossibly against him.

_ I’ve killed him! Of course, there are others. Others who already suspected he was a traitor. How could I be so stupid? Voldemort wouldn’t come to kill me without a plan. _

“No, I wouldn’t. Severus will have to fight. Do you think he will survive? I don’t.”

Voldemort cackled as he grabbed the back of Harry’s head, fingering the bleeding welt. Harry released an ungodly sound full of pain and fear as Voldemort applied pressure to a cracked section of his skull. White-hot agony rushed over his limbs but the hand only tightened, yanking so hard on the dark brown hair, Harry couldn’t help but open his mouth again to scream.

“Suck, boy wonder.”

Harry called out for Severus but was cut off halfway through by the wide cock shoved into his throat. Losing all coherent thought as those thin fingers pressed on the broken section of the skull, Harry dropped all pretense of bravery and screamed over and over again, rumbling around the cock in his mouth. The horrible sounds Harry was making filled the house. Dudley sat awake a room over, retching and clutching his hands over his ears. Petunia, back in the master, had visions of her sister, dead. Unresponsive. And poor little Harry, wailing and wailing. And Snape, caught in the middle of battle, dipped into his extensive knowledge of dark magic and paralyzed everyone in the kitchen as he turned into a swooping ball of smoke, tearing up the stairs.

Snape burst through the door, wand raised, and immediately cast three spells in three different directions. Turning first to Vernon and very nearly exploding him with his look alone, Snape cast some spell Harry had never seen and the man quite literally exploded into a mess of blood and ash. Another spell hit the booted man, and the third hit Harry, easing the pain in his head and his bum. Robes billowing out as Snape landed at Harry’s side, Harry felt the pants be tugged up around his hips and a white shirt pulled over his head. Leaning low, Snape placed smudged and slightly bloody glasses on the bridge of Harry’s nose. The first thing Harry saw was Snape’s pale face contorted in clear pain as blood ran down his arms.

The tip of the wand raised, illuminating the sad expression pulling Snape’s eyebrows together as he healed Harry’s head.

“You will need to rest for several days,” the voice croaked out. 

“Snape. You-”

“I only have a moment before the spell expires. The others downstairs are not finished either, though they will take longer to come back around.” Handing Harry a Slytherin medallion wrapped inside a towel with a grim expression knitting his eyebrows together he said, “This will take you to a safe place. Minerva will be in touch if I am unable to return. She is a strong witch with good morals, though they often get in the way. You may grow to trust her, as I have.” 

Snape touched his bloody hands to Harry’s cheek in a stolen moment of tenderness.

“Snape, what happened to you?”

“Harry, I have only a few minutes before...” He sighed. Snape readjusted, picking Harry up and walking him backward until his knees gave out against the bed. Instinctively, Harry grabbed at Snape’s shoulders and accidentally brought him down onto the bed with him. Despite the proximity to both the evil of Voldemort and the exploded bits of his uncle, Harry felt desire pool in his belly. He wanted to fall into those arms and never leave, never be in a world where Snape’s strong arms couldn’t hold him at every moment.

There was a dangerous sharpness to Snape’s eyes. They glittered with purpose, protection, and strength. Harry could feel his hot breath puff across his face, feel his thigh resting gently between his legs. Something flashed in the eyes. Going to wipe the sweat from his forehead, Harry felt himself smear something warm and sticky there instead. Bringing his hand into the moonlight, he looked at his palm covered in blood.

“This isn’t my blood. Snape, you’re hurt.”

Snape pressed Harry’s wand into his hand, ignoring the tight concern in Harry’s voice. Severus stood and took several steps away from Harry. “There are others.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

Harry never received his answer. A stirring sent Snape scurrying backward in a defensive position. Harry could only watch in horror as Voldemort and Snape began battling. Hexes flew and it seemed Snape became a shadow, dodging every ray of light flashing from the wicked wand. Severus looked wild, flashes of magic coloring his pale face and sparking in his dark eyes. Clambering back even further on the bed, Harry hoped it was out of the way as he watched Severus fight. Harry was brave like a Gryffindor and loyal like a Slytherin, unable to leave someone he loved. Unable to leave Severus. 

Illuminated in the pale green light of some terrible spell cutting gashes into his neck, Severus lunged at Voldemort. Crimson blood exploded into the pale moonlight. Harry felt its warmth as it splattered across his face. Snape’s black hair flew out behind him with his cloak as the weight of another curse smacked into his body. Driving his wand through Voldemort’s throat, then promptly through his heart while muttering something in Latin, Snape watched as the body turned blue then burst into black flames. 

Turning to Harry with a touch of a smile on his face, he collapsed into a pile of dark robes. 

Harry was at his side in an instant, watching the man he’d begun to care for bleed out. Clutching at his neck and a wet spot along his arm he said, “Merlin, Snape. What did you do?”

“Go. The rest are still downstairs.”

“No! I can’t leave you here. You’ll die.”

Fluttering his eyes closed, two ivory hands grabbed at Harry’s lapels. Bringing him down for a passionate kiss, Harry realized he had begun crying. Their tongues swirled together, mingling wrong with right. Harry tasted iron and something sweet. Pushing into the kiss deeper, Harry felt Snape gently push him away.

Whispering, Snape said, “Go now, Harry.”

“Severus…”

The dark eyes were open, vulnerable to Harry and he understood. Diving down for another kiss, Harry applied pressure to the wounds and swallowed up the moans of the man dying below him.

“I can’t. I can’t.”

When he pulled away, he heard the squeak of the bottom step.

“There is something for you on the nightstand in my bedroom. I had hoped I could have told you myself.”

“Severus, the portkey can-”

“It cannot. It was hastily and  _ illegally _ made. It will transport you, Harry, and you alone. Do not be foolish.”

A shaky hand cupped Harry’s face. 

“Do not make it a habit of yours to protect me, Harry.” His thumb swiped away a tear. Harry felt the soft locks of black hair ghost across his fingers as he brushed the hair out of Severus’s eyes. He would have given anything to stay here, curled against Snape but instead he heard the man say, “Go.”

“I can’t leave you, Severus. I won’t. You-”

“You must! This is goodbye, Harry.”

“No! I…” Harry crashed his lips against Severus and tasted fresh blood there too. 

“I know, Harry. I know you do.” Severus pulled him close, into a softer, chaste kiss. So distraught, Harry missed the thin hand snaking into his lap and yanking the towel from under the portkey. Harry whimpered as a shaky hand grabbed his wrist.

“You...said you wouldn’t die easily.”

“This isn’t easy.” 

A sad smile tugged at Snape’s pale lips when all of a sudden, the door to the bedroom slammed open again. There, silhouetted in the pale light glowing from the tip of a wand Harry knew too well, was Lucius Malfoy.

“I love you, Harry,” Severus whispered as he pressed Harry’s hand to the portkey. 

Harry was dragged through. Landing on all fours, Harry tilted his head up as the sorrow began to sour his features. There in front of him was the cottage Severus had described to him, the one he had seen in the mirror. Harry wrapped his hands around his belly and screamed a hoarse and hollow sound that tore through his throat. Severus was gone.

“No! No, no, no! NO! SEVERUS!” 

It was pouring, dousing him to the bone and making the thin white shirt plaster to his skin. Sending water droplets backward as he pushed the hair from his eyes, Harry looked up at the home before him as he sobbed and wailed. He had landed inside the fence and could feel the air buzzing with magic. It felt deep and dark and familiar. It felt like Severus. Harry’s heart broke, releasing some toxin that filled his blood with an acidic ache. His lungs failed to function and he gasped for air as he wept. Frantically reaching down, Harry squeezed the ring as rain and tears dripped from the tip of his nose. Snape didn't show.

Harry looked up at the sky, watching heavy clouds roll by even in the dark of night. Lightning crackled through his bones as he turned to the side and retched into the wild, untrimmed grass. Collapsing onto his side, Harry let the torrential downpour beat against his skin as he wept. Thunder rumbled through the air but even it couldn’t drown out the empty wails churning out of Harry’s lungs. His screams carried into the forest where, months previous, they had journeyed towards the ghost orchids. He laid beneath the power of the storm and the suffocating emptiness inside for nearly an hour before he remembered the danger of his situation. Severus had died for him and Harry was already throwing his life away.

Still crying out, Harry struggled to his legs and stumbled towards the homey little thatched cottage. A delicate mist rose from the ground and one single green light illuminated the wooden door with a snake as a knocker. Smoke piled out from the chimney. Harry placed a hand on the door, letting a grim expression cover his face as he felt the wards accept him and allow him inside.

Floating directly in front of his face was a letter written in Snape’s neat hand.

_ Harry, _

_ You shed like a dog. I was able to use a sample of your proliferous shedding to adjust the wards to your signature as well. You are safe here. _

_ Severus Snape _

Snatching the parchment out the air and stuffing it into his pocket, Harry staggered forward until he saw the roaring fireplace. Beside it a chair had tumbled to its side, a teacup was broken on the floor, and a pair of black slippers had been cast haphazardly beside the coffee table. The tears suddenly dried as Harry entered a sadness so deep it could no longer be expressed. He quietly righted the chair. Cleaning the teacup up with his bare hands, he left the shattered pieces on the nearby coffee table.

Looking to the chair, he noticed one directly across from it in a deep, Gryffindor red. Harry’s head titled gently to the side as he examined it. Besides it sat a small end table with a few books stacked atop it. All the books he had gotten partway through and fallen asleep on had been neatly piled there. 

Suddenly feeling a deep sense of loss, he turned back to the chair obviously belonging to Snape. It was well-loved and a deep green velvet. As Harry ran his fingers over the arms, he could still feel the slight prickle of Snape’s magic. 

_ He… No. No. It isn’t true. _

As if walking through a dream, Harry left the chair with silent tears blurring his vision and rolling down his cheeks. A low rumbling in his stomach pulled him to explore the rest of the house. Heading towards the kitchen, he found the fridge, pantry, and cupboards were well stocked. Grabbing a few morsels of fruit, Harry moved off in a daze, the green eyes hardly registering what they saw. Just as he left the room, a shimmer caught his eye. Standing high above the fridge, well out of Harry’s reach but not warded were three stacks nearly a foot high each of chocolate boxes. Two rows of black and one row of green.

Looking anywhere but at the stack of boxes, Harry dropped his eyes to the counter where he saw two cups. One of the mugs was elegant. Black and mystical, it held three silver snakes each with emerald eyes and diamond tongues. Beside it was a rather dumpy little red mug with the misshapen head of a lion holding two ruby eyes and a lopsided smile. Though Harry noted it was far less exquisite than Snape’s, it held a certain lovable charm. 

Harry began to shake.

_ We have mugs. Special coffee mugs. _

Leaving the room and tearing up the stairs, Harry entered the first room he came upon. Stumbling into the threshold, a strangled sob escaped his throat when he noted it was a near-perfect recreation of the room back in the dungeons at Hogwarts. Picking up a small stuffed lion at the foot of the bed, Harry collapsed onto the floor. Clutching the thing to his chest his world swam in and out of focus. He rolled its soft ear between his thumb and forefinger.  Realizing Snape either snatched it from him while he slept on his last night in case of this exact sort of emergency where Harry only had his wand, Harry held it closer. Snape had recognized how important the little lion was. Giving the creature a gentle kiss and placing it on the bed, Harry peeled himself from his wet clothes, hiccuping through the quiet sorrow as he went.

There, inside the dresser were all of his clothes from Hogwarts and then some. Deep red jumpers, forest green turtlenecks, and a plethora of black lined his drawers. He supposed robes would be in the closet as Snape wouldn’t want them to hang funny. With a cock-eyed smile, he tugged open the bottom drawer to find several pairs of silk boxers, thick tees, and a few sets of fleece pajama bottoms covered in snakes. With a hollow sob that should have been a laugh, he tugged on the pants. Leaving his torso to dry, he stared at the door.

_ The nightstand. His nightstand. He said he had something for me.  _

Harry could see that a bathroom was adjoined to his room. The sadness had shocked him into numbness and Harry knew this feeling a little too well. He ought to close the door, slide under the sheets, and face everything the following day after a full night’s rest and a belly full of food. 

But Harry’s heart won over his mind.

Harry followed the deep buzz of energy towards Snape’s room. Pressing the door open with the palm of his hand, the smell of Snape hit him like a wall. The tang of sandalwood, the sweetness of lingering shampoo, and the underlying smell of a cool morning’s mist brought Harry to his knees again as he stared at the deep green robe draped over the foot of the elaborate black bed glimmering with hints of silver accent pieces. The dark throw rug covered most of the wooden floor beneath it as Harry’s knees smacked into the floor.  Harry found his hands fisted in the rug on the verge of exploding the home or breaking down into fits of screaming sadness. Gathering his composure with a breath the way he’d seen Snape do a million times, he crawled over to the bed and snatched the robe up. Tentatively bringing it to his face, he inhaled softly.

With a tremble to his lower lip, he gently squeezed the ring on his left hand. The eyes of the snakes sparkled, but no one arrived. He squeezed again. And again. And again. Harry squeezed at the ring for several minutes until he quietly accepted that Severus, the man he had begun to admire and love, the man whose mouth he had invaded less than an hour previously, was dead. 

Crawling on all fours and eventually standing, Harry looked over to find not one but two large pensieves. Of course, each had a note scrawled in Snape’s meticulous yet ornate cursive. 

_ Harry, this may explain my past with Lily. I hope that it will shed some light on the reason I have acted so terribly towards you. A good actor is one whom no one knows is acting. _

Harry staggered out of the pensieve after watching many of Snape’s memories unfold. A trace of bitterness filled his chest as he thought about how all this time Snape only protected him because of his mother and Dumbledore. It was quickly followed by a strange, empathetic pain. Severus had been beaten, bullied, and tormented by his family, friends, headmaster, and peers.  _ This isn’t all for her, it can't be. _ Harry licked his lips and remembered the sweetness of the kiss, how hungry Snape was. How it felt as though it was the first time the man had ever taken something for himself. Harry looked over to the other pensieve and read the note.

_ It was here, in this moment, that I understood I no longer saw you as the son of Lily or James but simply as Harry. My Harry. Sodding impertinent brat. I am sorry. _

Harry looked into pensieve and watched through Snape’s eyes as he read to Harry. He was lying in Snape’s bed and it appeared as though it were after the incident with Voldemort invading his nightmares. He listened to Severus’ voice, the low rumble and the silky way it leapt over the names of potions. Exhausted, and partially lulled to sleep by the reading, he pulled his head up.

_ I lost him. Merlin, I lost him. _

The dam broke inside Harry.

Kneeling near the Floo, he fire-called Minerva.

“Harry! Child, where are you? You’re covered in blood.”

“It’s Snape.” Harry began to weep. Pulling himself together with a tremble in his lip he said, “Voldemort’s dead. Severus he...he’s…” Harry nodded hoping she wouldn’t force the words from him. “He saved me. My uncle...At the Dursleys…”

“It’s all right. I’ll call the Headmaster.”

“No! Please don’t. He set me up. Please, Professor McGonagall, Severus told me I could trust you.”

“Severus did, did he?” She sighed, her eyes clearly tearing. “Are you safe?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll alert the ministry and have them begin an investigation. You are certain you’re in a well-secured place?” Harry nodded and suspected that she knew exactly where he was. “If you are safe, there’s no need to return to Hogwarts.”

“Professor, I…” Harry shook his head. “Severus.”

The older woman blinked and sighed again. “Oh, my dear. Don’t worry. I don’t need details for the moment. For now, rest. Owl me if you need anything. Is there anyone you would like me to contact?” 

“Ron, Hermione, maybe. No, no, actually not them. If...if you can get a letter to Draco only, tell him I’ll meet him at the three broomsticks next Wednesday at nine a.m. Lucius-”

“I am well aware of Mr. Malfoy’s affiliations. Consider it taken care of.” Before leaving, she paused with tears in her eyes. “Severus was a great friend of mine. Wonderful man, though he’d hex you into next week if you told him so. You would do well not to forget that, Harry.”

Harry nodded and left his spot by the fireplace with tears already running down his face. Extinguishing the lights of the house with a wave of his hand, he slipped under the sheets with the robe, sobbing, and rocked himself to sleep.

Snape wasn’t coming back and for the first time in Harry’s life since he’d come to Hogwarts, he felt all hope drain away. He was alone and painfully broken. Voldemort was dead but Harry had lost the war.


	17. Malfoy Honor

Harry was cold. Despite the heat outside, he was freezing. He sat tucked away in the back of the Three Broomsticks under multiple different concealment charms and a heavy cloak he’d found while rooting around through Snape’s closet. Even so, he had been cold in a way that wouldn’t leave him ever since he had been ripped from Snape’s side. It seeped into his bones, took hold of his chest, and made his thoughts slow and sticky like molasses. The world was hopeless. Blue skies looked gray and beautiful flowers only reminded Harry of Snape's favorite ingredients. He had been cold, a kind of cold that nothing remedied. Every night since the incident Harry had fallen asleep bundled in blankets, lulled to sleep by the deep, persistent ache in his chest.

Bu cold as he was, he knew he couldn’t dare risk performing magic right now. Too many stores had wards set up to recognize his magic already. He had yet to step out into public since Rita Skeeter had published that article with the Ministry heralding Harry as victorious. Each morning a new owl dropped the _Daily Prophet_ just within the wards of the cottage. And so, each morning Harry to hear the growing discontentment that the savior of the wizarding world had not yet come into public. Coming out into public was a risky enough without the public trying to find him. Harry had no confirmation that Voldemort was gone for good with an uneasy, faint throbbing in his scar pouring fear into his veins. Besides, even if Voldemort himself was dead, the rest of the Death Eaters were very much alive and well. Dumbledore’s great war had never happened, Harry had never died, and the Death Eaters hardly lost a single soul from their cause. All the maniacs were in power except the one trying to kill him the most blatantly.

He huffed.  _ Have to bloody deal with the cooling charms in here I guess. Merlin knows Skeeter could have convinced this entire world to set up traps for the great Harry Potter. _ A sardonic voice sounding awfully like Snape said, _No times for the adoring fans, Harry?_ Harry brought his mug to his lips, carefully tipping a potion from Severus’s storeroom at the cottage into the dark elixir. It stayed muted in color and Harry sighed.

_ Well, at least no one is bloody trying to poison me out here.  _

Still, he fingered the bezoar in his pocket. After the incident where he had very nearly died at the diner, he decided that if he ever had the opportunity, he would carry a bezoar on him at all times, regardless of the cost. As luck had it, Severus had a container of them in the potions lab at the cottage. The smooth stone was cool beneath his touch and Harry had to fight against the bitter feeling sweeping over him.

_ My luck is rubbish. Harry Potter luck just means I don’t die, not everyone else.  _ Acid filled his mouth. _I don't **get** to die. _Taking another swig of his warm drink, Harry stared at the splintering table.  _ I bump along and everyone in front of me dives on the knife. Mom, Dad...even if he was a prick. Sirius, Lupin. Gods, Severus. I’ve killed everyone close to me. _

The corners of his eyes wrinkled in agitation as he fought back the incredible urge to run and hide back in that warm cottage where he could hurt no one and wither away in peace. Harry ground his teeth together.  _ Not everyone. Draco isn’t dead yet. Ron, Hermione. They aren’t close to me anymore. But they’re still alive out there. Dead silent too. Suppose they know already that Voldemort was dead. Dumbledore must have told them if the papers didn’t. Probably mad I didn’t tell them my plan. _ He chided himself with a subtle shake of his head.  _ No, no. That was the Imperius talking. They wouldn’t be that way. But Dumbledore definitely controls the Weasleys so they might not be able to say anything. _

His drink clanked down heavily on the table, gathering the attention of several nearby patrons. Harry grunted, his voice several octaves lower and significantly more threatening. The curious eyes turned away quickly. Harry tugged his hood lower, hiding still green eyes. A shudder worked its way through his body. Draco wouldn’t trust anyone without Harry’s eyes. To most, he was unrecognizable but he was certain Draco had been up close enough that he would have no issue identifying the cloaked wizard. Understandably, Harry knew he was asking a lot in telling Draco to meet him in public.

Glancing down at his watch, he scowled. Six minutes late already. Harry scratched at a strand of loose hair tickling his temple. 

_ Thought Malfoys were never late. Some rubbish about Malfoy honor. _

Harry kept his gaze on the large, warped wooden door. Not only had Draco never been late in Harry’s memory, but Draco had specifically owled back to change the time and date. It was 11:06 at night two weeks after Severus died and Harry couldn’t figure why Draco was late to his own appointment. As he sat, staring into the murkey depths of his drinks he realized something startling. The owl was not the normal Malfoy owl. 

_Lucius. Draco best not have set me up._

Rolling another potion bottle around in the palm of his hand, Harry narrowed his eyes. Only three people knew how to brew this potion and one of them was dead. Harry clenched his fist around the cool potion bottle knowing he’d have to be sly enough to slip it into Draco’s drink without those watchful grey eyes taking notice. Peeling his eyes away from the door, he looked down into the dark drink. Today was a bad today, a terrible day. A day that constantly brought him trouble.

It was his birthday.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose to prevent his tears. _Severus._ _ I would have pinched the snakes together today. It was my plan after all.  _ He huffed to himself, swirling the mug of dark liquid.  _ Wanted to save it in case I needed it. But I was hoping I wouldn’t need it. Harry Potter luck. _ The green eyes brimmed with tears. Harry quickly blinked them back. One fell into the bitter liquor.

_ All those nights I stayed up, I thought about you Sev. Thought about getting out of that house and getting to you. What would your home be like? How pissed would you be that I showed up? How many times would you call me a brat in those first few days? How happy you’d be… I was so sure you’d come to rescue me, take me home.  _

Harry ran his finger along the handle of the cup with a soft sigh. 

_ You rescued me. Why couldn’t you just take me home?  _ A lump of sorrow tightened his throat.  _ You did bring me home. You just didn’t come back with me.  _

“Waitin’ on someone?” Harry sucked in a sharp breath and nodded slightly as the woman hovered behind him. Bubbly voices haunted him, waited for him to slip up so they had their chance with the boy wonder. He couldn’t help but prickle. 

_ “Already tired of fame, Potter?” That’s what he’d say. “Not interested in all these...tantalizing...women, Harry?” No, Sev. I don’t like them one bit. I’m too interested in you. _

“Um, well, can I get you another?”

“No.” The voice was low, lower than his own and so gravelly it made his shoulders twitch. “Two large glasses of firewhiskey.”

“Still think she’ll show?”

“Presumptuous witch.” Harry could see the slight woman shift from side to side. He cleared his throat roughly and tapped the table. His hand looked older, hairier, and there was a distinct scar there that wasn’t his. “Two large glasses of firewhiskey.”

“Yessir. Coming right up.”

Soon enough, Harry was looking down into a glass of amber firewhiskey. He easily dropped in several drops of the potion detecting poison and grimaced in a half-smile when the colors didn’t change. His green eyes flashed up as he scouted around. No one had seen. Pressing his lips together tightly, he brought one of the glasses up to his lips. It burned pleasantly and Harry wondered if he would ever tire of the soothing taste it brought. He couldn’t help but remember Snape’s smokey laugh, the slanted smile, and the gorgeous, obsidian eyes. He let the memories crash over him for a moment.

But a moment was all he could spare in public. Rolling the stopper out of the potion named licentia, Harry cast a careful glance around the place. Several patrons were watching the strange hooded man looming over his two glasses of firewhiskey. He glared at them knowing full well no one would be able to see his shadowed eyes but hoping that the message would get across regardless. He desperately wanted to keep the new concoction hidden. Snape had felt it necessary to hide it from the Ministry and so did Harry. Slowly, the few heads staring at him turned away, resuming whatever measly conversation they might have had. Harry tipped the potion into the glass. The firewhiskey flashed blue for a fraction of a second before settling back to its normal color. He gave it a cautious sniff and smiled.

_ Did a great job on that potion. Odorless, colorless once it's mixed. Know that bugged you something crazy, Snape. You and I were going to work on it, fix it at some point so it never flashed blue.  _ He pocketed the empty phials.  _ But that isn’t happening, Harry. You’re fucking dwelling. Focus. You’re here to meet Draco and he’s...oh Merlin. He’s twenty-five minutes late? _

A frown covered Harry’s features as he tugged his wand free. Keeping hand and wand below the heft of his cloak he thought,  _ No. Malfoys are never late. They’re  _ **_early_ ** _.  _

As soon as he thought it, a tousled, beaten looking Draco burst through the door in a very un-Malfoy way.

"Where the bloody fuck are you, you stupid fucking lion?"

Harry blinked back surprise. The gray eyes scanned the room of gasping patrons. Harry could practically feel their terror at seeing the son of a notorious Death Eater come charging in, wand out and eyes blazing. _He's bloody yelling. What happened to him?_ From his position in the back, Harry could see the witches and wizards reeling, grasping for their wands and exploding away from him as if he were the bomb.

All Harry saw was a distraught-looking Draco looking entirely too disheveled.

The gray eyes were feral. Red-rimmed gray and bloodshot whites gave him an air of insanity as did the bruises and scrapes lining his face and hands. The Malfoy pride and honor that Draco had worn on his sleeve all throughout Hogwarts had been thrown out the window. He stood, blonde hair tinged red and standing up at odd angles, ready for a fight. He looked positively ready to hex everyone in the Three Broomsticks until Harry very calmly cleared his throat. The gray eyes settled and Draco stalked over, his shoulders relaxing marginally. Harry noted the gray eyes stopped darting around.

“P-”

“Drink.” The low voice crawled out of his throat.

“Sorry, must have the wrong wizard.”

Harry tugged his hood back slightly, revealing glittering green eyes nestled a bit too close together on a face that was old and weathered, riddled with scars, and positively not his. But Harry had banked on the correct assumption. Draco, tilting his chin upright and exuding confidence even in his current state, sniffed down at Harry as though he’d been insulted. Still, he sat across from Harry and sighed. He slumped and Harry couldn't help the surprise widening his eyes. This Draco was a heathen compared to the Draco he knew.

“I’m bloody exhausted.”

“Drink.” The tip of Harry’s wand peeked out from under the cloak. “I won’t ask again.”

Draco cautiously took the glass of liquor in front of him muttering, “If you’re trying to poison me Potty, I’ll kill you.”

Before Harry had a chance to chastise Draco, the blonde tipped the glass back and swallowed the whiskey in three large gulps. Grimacing, he gingerly set the glass back on the table. He scrunched his nose up and ruffled a hand through his wildly unkempt hair. 

“Veritaserum?”

“Licentia.”

Harry could see Draco’s throat tighten. “Very clever of you. I suppose Snape would approve of that.”

“Mm. S’pose he would.”

Clenching his hands into fists, Harry growled. He couldn’t even think of the man without terrible, nauseating grief taking hold of his senses. All restraint perished beneath the hollow feeling. Any hope of control over his magic fizzled away into the night when Snape’s name was mentioned. Sitting in the midst of the cozy inn, Harry couldn’t help but suddenly feel terribly alone. Worse, he knew that he was here to retell the events that had been haunting him every night since they occurred. Harry was here to tell Draco exactly how Snape had died. And why he'd left him to die.

Draco allowed the two to sit in comfortable silence for a while as Harry nursed his drink. The taste which had minutes ago brought him warm and happy memories from his time spent inside the dungeon and with Severus now brought the terrible images from that night. Harry could feel the hot blood splatter across his face, could feel it wetting the palms of his hands as he desperately clutched at the dark robes below him. He could still see the moonlight glitter in those wide open obsidian eyes as Snape pushed him out of the way.

_ And his lips. Can never forget them. So soft and firm. Gods, I could feel how much he loved me. Kissing Ginny was never like that. Kissing Draco certainly wasn’t. But Snape...Severus. Bloody felt like it was meant to be. What a joke. Meant to be. The bugger’s dead. Now I feel like I'm dead. Empty without the git. _

“Harry?” Draco’s voice had lost its hysterical edge. He licked his lips and raised his eyebrows. “Harry?

He couldn’t bring himself to look up at the pleading gray eyes. The moment he looked up, connected to those eyes and the memories behind them, Harry knew he was going to lose whatever pathetic hold he had on his composure.

“Draco…” 

“We aren’t seriously discussing this here. Let’s go. Lucius-”

“Lucius?” 

This time, Harry did raise his eyes. Draco never referred to his father by any name other than Father. Even though the bastard had beaten Draco, forced his hand, and manipulated him through the use of his mother into service with the Dark Lord, Draco never referred to his father by any term other than “Father”.

“I…” Draco huffed, trying to calm down the hair matted together in clumps by blood. “World doesn’t revolve around you, Potter,” Draco mumbled. Peering under the hood he looked into Harry’s eyes. “You aren’t the only one with stories to tell, you know. And you look bloody stupid like that.”

Draco crossed his arms across his chest, reminding Harry of a small petulant child. But even as Harry leaned back into his chair, he could see that something had changed in Draco. Something had upset the pristine Malfoy appearance. 

“Well, I was going to take us to-” Harry stopped.

_ What is that? Something feels...off.  _ Quickly he looked around the room.  _ No one notices. No, that’s not right. Draco notices. He’s biting his lip. When has he ever bitten his lip? Merlin, his lips are completely bloodied and split.  _

“Harry, pull your head out of your arse and take us to wherever you planned on.  _ Now _ .” 

The urgency in Draco’s voice and the fear flickering in those grey eyes curdled the modicum of joy blooming in Harry’s belly. Draco was afraid and that was not something Harry thought he would ever live to see. Now that he’d seen it, he wished that he hadn’t. 

"Draco! What the hell happened before-"

Harry stopped. A chill crept across the Three Broomsticks raising Harry’s eyes and his suspicions. Something was very wrong. Even the few remaining patrons pulled their summer robes more tightly, a couple of women in the back letting their hair loose to warm their neck. 

Harry felt it before it happened. 

Death Eater magic, Lucius’s magic, crackled. Standing abruptly, Harry kneed the table sending Draco leaping backward as the table tipped and began to fall. A sickening crack of glass to the floor brought all the eyes to him and his companion. Harry crunched through the scattered glass over to Draco’s side. Lucius was here and so was Draco. Keeping his hood up, Harry casually pressed his wand into Draco’s side. The pale boy blanched further if it were possible, the gray eyes going even redder around the edges and looking hopelessly lost. One thin hand grabbed a fistful of the cloak as Draco silently pleaded with Harry.

This close, Harry could see exactly what the toll of the past two months had taken on Draco. Gone was the cocksure grin. Replacing it sat an ugly expression of terror. The thin pink lips pulled down, mouth slightly agape, enough so that the rapid breaths puffed like a steam engine across Harry’s face. The pale eyebrows went high and wide. And those poor gray eyes once so full of passion and purpose were wide, their white edges showing all around the gray irises as the lower lids hugged up tightly. There was even a dusting of pink coloring the cheeks as Draco’s heart frantically pounded.

_ Merlin, he’s terrified. I’ve never seen him so scared. _ Harry began to pull his wand away.  _ There are other problems. Gods, he isn’t one of them. What is wrong with me? He's my **friend**. He would never sell me out.  _ But before Harry could tell Draco he trusted him, the pale boy was shoving his wand into Harry’s free hand. 

“I swear, I didn’t bring him here. I swear to Merlin, on Snape’s life!”

“Draco, I-”

The light clack of heels came behind him but before the woman could do a thing to Harry, he sent a light spell her way, freezing her feet to the floor and erecting a small protective barrier around her.

“You’ll find,” he growled, “you can only move backward.”

If she said anything to Harry, he lost it in the tapping of a cane. Lucius was here, presumably alone, to finish up his duties and kill Harry.  _ Well, if I bloody die here they might as well know it’s me. _ He waved his wand, muttering a quick incantation as he went. The eyes remained glued to him, confused as the hefty man beneath the cloak shrunk down a foot and seemed to lose about a hundred pounds. It wasn’t until he threw off the hood that everyone knew it was Harry Potter.

A gentle murmuring swept over the small crowd of patrons. “Shut up.” Harry nearly jumped at the venom in his voice and was surprised to find everyone inching away from him. Draco however, had a bit of a grin tugging on his lips.

_ No one likes a bitter hero, I guess. Except all of Slytherin. Now that's just fun and games to them. _

“Draco, take your damn wand.” 

The piece of wood slipped back into Draco’s hand. Some patron yelled something about Draco being dark but neither he nor Harry had the time to care. The wooden door burst open and there in front of him was Lucius Malfoy, white hair well-maintained and draped across the dark collars of his ornate robes. Harry gripped his wand tightly, keeping it hidden as best he could up his sleeve as he stared down the man who he had left with his dying professor. The frigid blue eyes held no remorse, no hint of sorrow. They only kept staring straight ahead, daring those green emeralds to try something.

Swallowing any last ounce of fear, Harry said, “Lucius. Fancy meeting you here.”

“Harry Potter,” the blue eyes rested on Draco a moment before turning back to Harry. “You are a fool.”

“I’ve been told.”

Lucius huffed. His large frame and larger cloak blocked the entrance and Harry realized quite suddenly, he could only make out the hand resting casually on that damned cane. He brushed it off as a discomfort he would have to endure. That cane was where the bastard’s wand was. It was the only thing Harry needed to pay attention to. Whatever surprise might lie behind Lucius would have to wait.

“Here to kill me?”

“Perhaps. If you give me adequate reason to defend myself I might take the liberty of removing the thorn in the Dark Lord’s side once and for all.”

“So he isn’t dead?”

Lucius scoffed, blinking slowly and hiding a growing smile with a sneer. He shifted slightly, enough to have Harry taking a step forward into a more aggressive posture. 

“Draco, come here. Your mother is worried by your absence and I am quite displeased.”

Harry hazarded a glance over to Draco whose wand was feebly raised by his side, pointing nowhere in particular as he trembled. It was subtle, enough so that Harry thought only Lucius and himself likely noticed. His throat bobbed but no sound came out. 

“Draco," Lucius repeated. "Think of your mother." 

The eyes bore down on Harry and Draco. The decision seemed monumental. While Harry had trusted Draco so far, expecting him to abandon his morals and leave his family in the dust behind him was something not even Harry could expect. It was too much. Draco loved his family, loved his mother, and fought to protect her at every turn. Draco may have appeared misguided but Harry found that the Slytherin was motivated by family more than anyone he had ever met. Draco would die ten times over to protect his mother.

Draco straightened his shoulders, the torn shirt exposing a hipbone. But as Draco lifted his chin, the old Malfoy honor returned.  _ Of course, he’ll go back with Lucius. I don’t even know what I was thinking, calling him to meet me. It’s his family. Just because I don’t have one doesn’t mean- _

“I can’t.”

Lucius’s knuckles popped as he gripped his wand. “Excuse me? You what? Certainly, I’m not hearing this from my son.”

“I won’t. I’m Harry’s...” The grey eyes looked over to Harry who shuffled a step closer. _You're my friend, Draco._ Harry nodded subtly and Draco continued, “Potter is an idiot without me.”

“Mr. Potter,” the cane fell as Lucius removed his wand elegantly with one hand. “It seems you have been a bad influence on my son. I intercepted your message. You certainly have pulled him off the right path for wizarding society.”

_ Impossible. Minerva promised me she would get it to Draco without Lucius getting in the way. Snape said I could trust her. She...she was my head of house for years! I already trusted her. _

“He is ever careless when it comes to discarding mail.” He chuckled to himself before his face fell back into a tight sneer. “Seventeen years and he has yet to figure out that our fires send all burnt mail to my personal quarters.” Harry’s hand tightened on his wand, the killing curse thick on the back of his tongue. “To think, he carries the Malfoy name with that sort of stupidity. Disgusting, isn’t it Mr. Potter?”

So caught up in the conversation, Harry was a fraction too late to do anything but deflect the brilliant burst of light aimed directly at his face. The crack of apparition sounded followed in quick succession by another. Harry spun around but the explosive light had the properties of a Weasley trick. It exploded indefinitely, erupting until every corner of the room was bathed in white light bright enough to cause the patrons to scream. Harry did his best, extinguishing the light only seven minutes later. When he turned to Draco, the boy had vanished.

Before Harry had the thought to chase them, a third crack announced Lucius. He reappeared in the doorway, blood dripping from his knuckles and a malevolent smile on his face. Harry could still not see behind him.

“Better that we are alone, isn’t it Potter? My son is not your business. He is-”

“The heir to the Malfoy name. Whatever, I get it. It isn’t that special. Think he’s bloody better off just being plain old Draco.”

A muscle in the elder Malfoy’s jaw twitched. 

“The opinion of a half-blood isn’t needed in pureblood matters.”

“That’s what you’re calling this? Fuck off. Where’s Draco?”

"He matters so much to you?"

"Tell me where you took him or I'll kill you."

“Eager, aren't you? Severus told me you were impatient but even this is unexpected. Very well.” Lucius shifted again, his foot lifting up slightly and connecting with something solid behind him. A small whimper and flash of blonde hair peeked around the robes covering his shoulders. 

Harry didn’t miss a beat. “Avada-”

“Ah! Not so fast.”

The hidden hand yanked hard and Draco was flung in front of Lucius. Blood colored his hair and his pale skin sported a few bruises and burns. The well-manicured nails were split, the striking gray eyes swollen and red. Worst of all, the perfect clothes that had been torn and tattered were now sporting spots of blood that were quickly growing. Draco only had on one polished black shoe and the other foot now looked clearly broken. A jolt of empathy burned through Harry.

“Go on, say it. You must mean it, remember.”

Draco whimpered again, feebly fighting against the firm arm winding around his throat. As he did, Lucius squeezed tighter.

“What do you want?”

The blue eyes looked down at Harry and the son he was clutching to his chest.

“I want very little, Mr. Potter but I need you dead. Come now, on your knees.”

“You can kill me standing just fine.”

Lucius clucked his tongue. “Wherever is the fun in that?” 

He walked closer, shoving Draco forward as he went. Draco stumbled, catching his feet up in his father’s. Lucius began to trip over the injured body of his son and quickly let go. Draco tossed himself forward, out of the reach of those threatening paternal arms, and began falling, his arms reaching out blindly as he went down. The gray eyes caught Harry's gaze and pleaded with an unspoken _save me_. Harry jumped forward, catching the beaten Slytherin and hauling him closer to his chest. Lucius took several steps forward but Harry was quicker, deftly moving out of arm's reach.

Harry clutched onto Draco and took a risk. Throwing himself backward, he apparated to the middle of the forest surrounding the cottage. The world spun and pulled and twisted. Harry swore he could feel the touch of fingertips reaching in after him but they fell away as he focused on the forest. It was a rough trip, even by Harry’s standards, and the moment his feet smacked into the ground, he dropped Draco and threw up into the mist. 

“Draco?” 

An angry grunt from the mud below responded.

“Got your wand?”

Several more grunts followed by a loud curse. 

“Stupid bloody fog and the bloody mud of the- augh!” A squelching sound followed by a dull thud reached Harry. He snickered. “I  _ hate _ this bloody place! Why couldn’t you have just apparated us to a nice quaint muggle town or something.”

“Quaint muggle town? Draco, are you getting soft? Maybe I have influenced you.”

“I can’t find my stupid wand. It was on me when you bloody apparated us into the middle of nowhere.”

Another slipping sound followed by three more thuds and a frustrated yelp as Draco continued to slip and slide around the mud Harry had apparated them into floated into the night. Harry shed his cloak, tucking it over one of his arms as he watched in bemusement as Draco struggled. 

“What the fuck kind of ground is this? Is it spelled? You rotten little Gryffindor. You fucking spelled this bloody ground to-”

“You idiot dragon come over here.”

“I’m bloody  _ trying _ ,” Draco whined. 

The sorrow clinging to his bones lessened slightly at the thought that Draco Malfoy, proud heir to the Malfoy Manor and prefect, was covered in mud, sitting on his arse, and unable to get to his feet.

“All right, all right. Just sit still. Just call for your stupid wand.”

Silence met his ears for a moment before Draco called his wand. The smack of muddy wood against palm made Harry grin.

“You all right?”

“Whatever, Potter.”

“Answer me.”

There was a moment of silence before Draco nearly whispered, “Thought he was going to kill me. My foot’s broken. Everything else will just make pretty scars. I...I think I’m okay.”

Casting a small, powered down ventus jinx, Harry cleared out the fog swamping the Slytherin and crouched beside Malfoy who was decidedly glaring at the mud as if it had personally wronged him though Harry was happy to see him holding his wand lit up for Harry to see the damage.  _ Bollocks, he looks pretty roughed up. Looks like a lot more than just pretty scars. Nose is definitely broken too. Merlin, seven minutes nearly killed him.  _ Harry lifted his wand, pulling it back into his lap as Draco flinched. 

“Watch where you’re pointing that.”

“You gonna let me heal you or are you going to be a prat?”

“ _ Can _ you heal me?”

“Yes.” No humour. No witty snark. He didn’t want to play this game anymore. Harry was tired and he needed to get Draco to a place Lucius and the rest of the Death Eaters couldn’t find. Draco kept his gaze trained on the ground. He said nothing but the slim shoulders shrugged. 

Harry moved quickly, running his wand over the visible scrapes and bruises. He even went so far as to remove the blood from the pouting Malfoy’s hair. Draco begrudgingly let him heal a large slash on his arm insisting that one interesting scar would do him some good. Harry, familiar enough with scars, won the argument.

“All right. Now take off your shirt.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come off it. I’ve kissed you already, remember? I’m not going to just pounce on you, you twit. If you can’t tell you’re  _ bleeding _ and I’d rather heal this now than deal with it later.”

Draco fumbled with buttons, the shaking so severe he could hardly manage it. It took some time, but when he finished, he lay back in the mud, wincing. A large gash sliced across his abdomen and Harry very nearly slapped the Slytherin for attempting to hide such a large wound. Instead, he kept silent and quietly performed the necessary spellwork before dropping the heavy cloak on Draco who made a soft “oof” sound as it landed on his face.

“What the bloody hell do you expect me to do with this?”

“Wear it.” 

“Why?” 

_ That’s twice he’s whined tonight.  _ Harry smiled to himself.  _ Shouldn’t be too surprised though. After all, it is absolutely horrendous.  _

“Because, Draco, you’re going to catch a cold. Put it on, lighten yourself, and climb on my back.”

“Wh-”

“Don’t. Please, just don’t. I’m the one hauling your arse around so just get on and shut up.” 

Harry rubbed a hand down his weary face. It was already late and he and Draco were having a terrible go of it already. When he had asked McGonagall to owl Draco for him, he had assumed that Draco would show, they would talk for a moment where he would dose him with a potion, and then they would apparate off to the forest where Harry would conjure up a bed and small cottage to keep warded himself.

“I can’t get up.”

“New problem?” Harry said. Draco groaned. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll help you.”

Kneeling into the mud, Harry was about to help Draco climb onto his back when he stopped. 

“Draco, how much do you know about warding?”

“A fair bit. Snape taught me a lot last year and what he didn’t teach me, Lucius already had.”

Harry nodded slowly. “So, if I let you into my wards, how difficult would it be for your father to figure that out?”

“Impossible. If done correctly. I doubt you have the prowess to complete such wards.”

“No, I don’t think I do yet. You?”

“Of course. I’m not an imbecile.”

“All right. I have a plan but first, make an unbreakable oath.”

“I...what?”

“Make an unbreakable oath that you won’t tell a single soul what my plan is and where my plan is located. You will keep everything between us tonight a secret.”

The gray eyes narrowed but immediately relaxed. “You are impossible to please, Potter.”

“It’s fucking Harry.”

“Thought you didn’t shag your friends.” It was Harry’s turn to scream. “Besides, it’s impossible to cast it without a third person.” 

“No it isn’t, that’s just rubbish. It’s just as easily done with a patronus and some good spellwork.”

The two quickly set about the unbreakable vow finishing the whole ordeal in under ten minutes once Draco quit whining about being the one forced to use his patronus. A massive dragon flew off into the forest when they were finished, carrying on its back the promise of two good friends.

“Never seen a bloody patronus walk off.”

“Fly off,” Harry supplied. “Sorry. It’s the forest. Special.”

“Figures. Scar on your head, Dark Lord after you, makes sense you’d have a special forest. Stupid fucking-”

“All right, come on up.” Harry helped Draco climb onto his back. “You eating extra helpings of dessert? Ouch! Sorry.” Harry earned himself a rough slap to the back of the head and a kick to the soft spot between ribs and hip bones. “That’s what I get for cleaning your stupid blonde-”

“Thank you.”

The words were quiet, almost inaudible and if they hadn’t been breathed right into Harry’s ear, he would have missed them.

“You’re welcome.” 

The ground churned beneath Harry as he approached the one hour mark of walking with Draco on his back. His legs ached and he knew he had at least another two hours to go but he couldn’t dare apparate any closer than he had for fear of tipping anyone off. It was bad enough he had to leave with Lucius trying to find him mid-apparation. Harry huffed out a heavy sigh, letting a small groan come out with it. Draco’s head had found Harry’s shoulder fifteen minutes into the walk. 

_ Bet he’s asleep. Don’t blame him with the amount of healing magic he had to endure. I’d be out for at least a day. But then again, I guess I was pretty lazy compared to the Slytherin king.  _

_ Gods, Snape would be losing it if he could see us now. Draco piggybacking to his cottage taking a nap on the Golden Boy’s shoulder. What a joke. If I showed Snape this memory three years ago he would hex me into oblivion for trying to trick him. I think I wouldn’t have believed it either. Draco Malfoy, my best friend and currently cuddling on my back as I haul his arse to Snape’s house. _

Harry laughed to himself at the absurdity of the situation.

“Something funny?”

“Didn’t think you were awake.”

“I’m thinking.”

“Me too.”

There was a slight pause before Harry felt Draco stiffen. Harry gathered his courage and said, “I...I left him to die.”

“You did what you had to, Harry.”

“No, listen. I wanted to tell you what happened.” Harry waited. When Draco said nothing, he continued. “Severus gave me a ring. It was an emergency kind of thing. He told me that if I was in trouble and squeezed the ring, he would know. I had this dumb idea. Thought that if I could manage the treatment for a few months, just until my birthday, I could just...get out. Leave. Squeeze the ring and maybe Severus would show up and I could get him to take me back to his flat or whatever.

“But one night my uncle… He hadn’t fed me really in a few days and I was already so weak. I’d gotten by on the few nutritional potions Severus pushed on me before I left. When Vernon pulled me out of my cupboard, I could hardly fight back and I didn’t have my glasses. He hit me over the head with the bust of my cousin, Dudley.”

Harry paused. The silence of the forest was deafening. The occasional crack of a branch underfoot did nothing to ease Harry’s heart, make him feel less alone. Draco placed a careful hand on Harry’s chest. The heart hammered away in his chest, making his panic more evident. Harry focused on that hand, let it pull him away from the memories of Vernon raping him upstairs in that brutally cold room beneath those boots, beneath Voldemort’s boots.

“Harry?”

“I told you about Vernon.”

“Yes.”

“He dragged me upstairs and I had a crack in my skull. In the back.” Harry wiggled an arm free to point to a section on the back of his head that, even though Snape had healed it, no longer grew hair.

“Merlin, Harry.” The hand pulled away from Harry’s chest as the fingers combed through his hair. Draco lurched backward and quickly wrapped his arms back around Harry’s neck.

“Uh, well, anyway. Vernon took me upstairs into my old room. Er, the second room I had because I guess the cupboard was my old room. Sorry. I just…” Harry shook his head. “He raped me. I couldn’t stop him because there were boots on my hands. Couldn’t get to the ring. The Dark...he...gods I wish I had a pensieve.

“I started screaming and managed to get my hand out to squeeze the ring. But then he made me-” Harry felt himself slipping back into that panic-filled state. The world was collapsing around him.

“Harry.”

“He pushed on my broken skull and I screamed and when I did…” Harry took a deep shuddering breath. “I felt Severus show up. His magic was buzzing and I could hear the others apparating and disapparating in and out of the house. The curses lit up the bedroom and their screams, Merlin they screamed. I don’t know what happened or if he got any but he came up and cast  _ something _ at Vol...you-know-who.”

_ Gods, I can’t even say his name anymore. I’m fucking pathetic. I just...I feel like if I say his name he’ll come back. If I speak it then that night with his… Oh gods. _

Harry dropped to his knees suddenly, spilling Draco over to the side as he started retching. The memory of his uncle shuddering and moaning behind him with Voldemort’s cock shoved down his throat while there were others dying, Snape fighting a story below him, sickened Harry. He felt dirty, used, and impossibly broken. The slick feeling of blood and precum and spit still tainting his mouth with bitterness and despair. The scar on the back of his head still remembered the explosive pain that had pulled earnest screams from his throat while Voldemort thrust into his mouth. He could still feel the lightning bolt of pain throbbing on his forehead with Voldemort’s twisted glee. 

He hadn’t realized he had started crying nor had he realized that he had at some point been spelled clean and hauled into Draco’s lap. Harry wept loudly and freely as his body shook.

Eventually, he managed to choke out, “He kissed me, Draco. That...that selfless fucker kissed me and shoved a portkey in my hand. He made me leave him. Dammit all! Draco, he...he… Severus  _ loved  _ me. And I looked up and saw Lucius and he made me leave.”

The last word broke and Draco hugged Harry more tightly. Harry followed the soft circles rubbed across his back until he calmed down enough to wipe his eyes of the tears. Looking up to the Slytherin, he found a mirrored expression of sorrow. 

Draco took in a long breath and closed his eyes. “We need to keep going.”

Harry nodded before picking Draco back up. The shared moment of uncharacteristic tenderness hidden from reality as the two picked up the broken pieces of their heart and moved towards the cottage. They walked in silence a little while longer. When the light of the moon began casting elaborate shadows around them, Draco cleared his throat.

“He brought him into the Manor.” Harry faltered in his steps. “I have a curfew, even at the Manor. Lucius does not allow me out after midnight. But as you know, I don’t tend to listen to rules too often.

“I was up, intending to walk out in the gardens when I saw him come in with his Death Eater cronies. They come by, of course, but this was different. I’ve only seen them come by so late once before and that was when  _ he _ returned. After the cup. 

“I heard a sound, a terrible thud and there was Snape. Dead, clearly. On the floor and bloody. But Lucius and Bellatrix were so riled about something. Screaming about how he needed to pay and they would have their revenge one way or another. Snape was a traitor. They knew. I heard that he killed the Dark Lord, not you. Rita Skeeter really won’t believe that, hm?”

“She doesn’t know,” Harry said. “No one knows. If I told them, I’d be even more unsafe than I am now what with the prophecy not being fulfilled.” Draco nodded. “Besides, not sure Severus wants the attention. I’ll make sure it’s right. Just...not now.”

“Well, it’s better that way. Snape...he shouldn’t have been brought back to the Manor and I’m not sure what fa- Lucius was planning but I’m sure it’s something.”

“You’re sure he was dead?”

“He  _ looked _ dead but I didn’t run the scan. He wasn’t breathing and that much blood...”

“Right. Got it.”

“Harry, if they were thinking about trying to revive the Dark Lord-”

“I said I got it.”

Draco fell silent for a moment before continuing. “I watched too long and Lucius saw me. His eyes lingered too long and I knew he had seen me. Worse, he had seen me crying over the body of someone they were calling a traitor. He didn’t say anything but the next morning when I got up after I got your owl and burned it, he started crucioing me.”

“But you're his son!”

“Harry, that doesn’t matter.”

Quietly, he said, “It should.”

Draco sighed. His head rested back on Harry’s shoulder and he could feel the vibrations as Draco spoke. “He was fuming for the better part of a week. Then he handed me over to the rest. Good at what they do but entirely too stupid to rival me.”

“Ah yes, the notorious brains of Draco Malfoy.”

“Sod off.” 

“So, they tortured you?”

“Yeah. For a few days. I was able to hex their dicks and turn Bellatrix’s tits into actual balloons. Caused enough fuss that I slipped out.”

“You  _ left _ the Manor?”

“Yes, don’t get your knickers in a twist.” 

Harry scowled. Malfoy had left his safest spot days ago meaning he had been on the run nearly all week from his own father and the Death Eaters. Harry had to admit, it was impressive and definitely not something that could be done without extensive knowledge. Even Harry who was familiar with running from Death Eaters would be nervous to be left without protection for that long. 

“Couldn’t you have stayed and proved you were one of them?”

“No. Lucius knew. He knew I saw Snape as more of a father than anything. He was important to me. I couldn’t deny that. But I don’t need your stupid sympathy. What I couldn’t understand was why they brought Snape back to the Manor.”

“To bury him?”

“Don’t be daft. Death Eaters don’t bury people, especially not traitors. They wanted something.”

“Well what-”

“I don’t know, Potter!”

Harry looked up. The magical presence of the cottage approached. They had already been walking for most of the night and Harry was exhausted. He wasn’t even sure he’d be able to get Draco in past the wards but at this point, he had no other course of action. Draco was on the run, seriously injured, and in dire need of a friend.

“We’re almost there. I’m going to spell you blind okay?”

“Whatever, Potter. Just make sure you can reverse it.” 

Harry cast a quick spell before exiting the thick forest and padding through a relatively small clearing near the back of the property. Bickering momentarily with Draco about the spellwork needed, Harry yanked a piece of blonde hair out of Draco’s head. Ignoring the yelp, Harry followed Draco’s instructions to the letter, moving around the property, adding a potion which Severus conveniently had in store, and spending the rest of the night hastily learning about wards.

Finally, he walked through the familiar prickle of magic and over to Draco who was lying on the ground, blinded and bitching. 

“Okay, okay I  _ get it _ . Gods, must you be so damn annoying?”

“Me? You’ve left me with a broken foot on the sopping wet ground for hours, you prat. And it’s bloody hot and humid and-” 

“Just fucking climb on. Or would you rather I scoop you up and-”

“I’m getting on. Just sod off.”

Taking one tentative step over the barrier, Harry carefully crossed over, very aware that Draco could disintegrate or get blown back twenty feet if he had done this incorrectly. Nothing happened. He took another few steps and still nothing happened. A large sigh of relief left Harry. 

_ Thank Merlin. I’ve done it.  _

“There, not a hair harmed on your pretty little head.”

Draco scoffed. “You  _ did _ rip a piece out.”

“For fucks sake, Draco.”

Harry continued carrying Draco inside where he walked him into the cozy living room and tossed him down on the couch. Waving his hand, he turned the hideous cloak into a warm blanket. 

“I’m getting you skele-gro and in the morning I’ll head over to Gringotts and pass Grimmauld Place over to you. That should keep you safe enough. Won’t keep Vol….won’t keep him out but it’ll keep you safe from the rest.”

Draco’s gray eyes widened. “If this is some pity-”

“No. No, it really isn’t mine anyway. Your mom was a Black so...it’s more yours than mine. I’m sure Kreacher will think so too. The Order can’t use it anymore since it came into my possession so it’ll be safe from them too if you’re wondering.”

The gray eyes looked down into his lap as he tugged the blanket over his shoulders.

“No shower?”

“After your foot heals a little. Don’t want to drag your pasty arse out of-”

“You wish you were so lucky.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Accio skele-gro.” A small phial flew out of a hidden room. Harry handed it down to Draco with a rough sigh. "I'll let you straighten out that crooked nose."

Draco's hands flew up to his face before taking the potion. 

_Yeah, of course that's what make you balk, Draco._ Harry smiled for a moment before falling back into his comfortable state of sorrow. _Severus._ _What would you think of this? Our home. I’ve been here two weeks and I’m already filling it with Gryffindor nonsense and bravery. Dragged Draco all night through the damn forest. Now...now he’s sitting on your couch in dirty clothes no less. Severus…I’m so sorry. I couldn’t...couldn’t save you but I’ll make sure Draco and I are safe._

Harry blinked as Draco gagged on the foul potion. Narrowing his eyes, Harry’s brain took its first step into dangerous territory.  _ I’ll save you yet, Snape. I will. _ With that, he walked off to make a quick dinner of sandwiches and pumpkin juice before reinforcing the wards surrounding the potions lab and upstairs bedrooms. _Tonight, I'll take care of this idiot snake and tomorrow, I'll start working on saving you. No one ever fights for you, Severus. I will. I'll save you yet, you git._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a slow chapter this time. Hope you guys enjoy it! There will be a chapter released both tomorrow and Friday as a little Thanksgiving present to you guys even if you aren't from the U.S. Maybe not the happiest chapters, but definitely hopeful! Anyway, as always, let me know what you think. I'm overwhelmed by your comments and feedback on my last chapter. Glad we all are getting through it together.


	18. Don't Break Me

The world fuzzed around Severus and pain licked at his edges like fire. His neck throbbed. A blanket of agony had been draped over him. Heavy and unrelenting, it pinned him to whatever he was laid upon. He was cold, brutally so. And yet, he couldn’t feel himself shivering. Severus could only feel the terrible frigidness rolling over his body, helpless to stop it. The world was too cold, too heavy, too full of pain. It wasn’t right. Severus fought to gain some sense of reality, some conscious thought that would prove this all just some terrible nightmare. He fell back into the pool of dark pain.

Drowning in the thick, agonizing world of bottomless blackness, Severus still fought against the current. There was something in his heart, something unwilling to give up easily. Years back, he would have closed his eyes and embraced the void tugging at his spirit but now he couldn’t. Severus couldn’t give in to the call of the void. He couldn’t let those last bits of himself fade away. 

As he struggled to keep hold of his life, his first thought exploded through him like a bullet.  _ Why? _ With barely a pause, he answered himself.  _ Harry. _ His hands tightened vice-like around his thoughts, his consciousness, his chance at waking again and returning to Harry. Harry who he had kissed. Harry who loved him, who he loved. Harry who he had promised.  _ I will not die easily, Harry. I will  _ **_not_ ** _ leave you. Someone must watch over your impudent arse.  _

The sharp sting of medical magic washed over him. It bit into his wounds without kindness. He was suddenly very sure he was trying to scream, the tightness of his jaw flexing as his throat rattled with pain. The pain fluttered down his skin like snowbirds, following the trail south until even the soles of his feet were cramping in pain. Cool glass pressed to his lips and he fought like Hell against swallowing an unknown substance. Shrill voices penetrated his ears but his brain couldn’t make sense of their owners or the words they were trying to form. 

Hazy recognition of the events that had occurred buzzed in his brain.  _ No. No, I should be dead. This must not be Harry, he is at the cottage by now.  _ A thunderbolt clapped in his head and everything broke into hideous clarity.  _ Lucius. _

“I  _ know _ the bastard is almost dead. I don’t care about the “almost” you worthless sack of shit. You make him alive enough so that I may tend to him without your help.” The crack of cane against bone was followed by an ugly scream. “Useless mudblood. Narcissa, come here.”

“Lucius.”

“Has Draco been located?”

“No.” Snape felt his wand hand twitch as Narcissa whimpered. He didn’t need eyes to know Lucius was gripping her face. 

“You wouldn’t lie to your husband would you?”

“No. I-I would tell you. Lucius, please.”

Lucius growled before clacking around to the other side of Severus. He could smell the cologne both disgusted at being helpless beside a maniac and comforted that his senses were slowly awakening.

_ Draco has gone? Merlin, no. If he’s gone and defected from his father’s wishes Lucius will be out for blood.  _

“Have I been too lenient with him?” Lucius paused, but Narcissa said nothing. “Have I given him too much?” No response. He snapped his fingers. The crack of a house-elf appearing boomed through Snape’s ears. “Find Draco. When you’ve found him, alert me.”

“Yes, Master.”

The elf vanished with a crack. A deadly silence hung in the air. “Cissa, I will kill him. If you attempt to stop me, I will do what I must. Do not forget that.”

A hand landed on Snape’s arm, dangerously near a hub of pain. One thumb casually brushed over the exposed flesh. Severus kept his face impassive even as the nail dug into a still healing magical gash. It would not do to show his hand so early. Occluding fiercely and forcing his mind to dismiss the pain screaming from his wound, Severus continued to breathe slowly and steadily. The hand remained for a short eternity, poking and prodded at various wounds before vanishing. It cracked against Snape’s face with a stinging force that reminded Severus of his childhood. Narcissa gasped quietly and Lucius muttered something unintelligible. Severus kept his head tilted to the side sure that a bright red handprint was blossoming in the wake of that brutish hand. 

“Hmph. Find me if that useless healer wakes him.”

The cane clacked around until its voice was hidden by the slam of a door. Two light hands came to rest on Snape after the warmth of a blanket draped across his frame.

“Severus. Severus, I saw your wand arm twitch.” The obsidian eyes opened. Narcissa’s face was bruised, her eyes horribly sad. “Yes, there you are Severus. Hello.”

“Narcissa.” His voice was raspy, covered by a blanket of miserable memories. The Dark Lord had done this to him. A final parting gift, a dark spell to the neck. “Draco is he-” Severus began to cough, turning splotchy and red as he struggled to muffle himself. A cool glass of water was pressed to his lips.

“He’s safe.” A sad huff of laughter ran through the room. “He’s with Harry. That boy disapparated Draco in the middle of a fight with Lucius. In public.”

Snape greedily drank the water.  _ Harry would not have kept him at the cottage long. Perhaps a night or two, but he would not risk inviting Draco there to stay long-term. Or perhaps I have misjudged their association. Perhaps I misjudged my association with Harry. _

He managed to croak out, “Where?”

“It seems that dear Harry has signed over Grimmauld Place to him.”

“Black.”

“Yes. I presume he was clever enough to realize the wards there would instinctively protect the Black bloodline. Lucius has no way to find Draco. Kreacher was beyond happy to have Draco under his roof.” Narcissa laughed lightly, brushing back some of Snape’s hair. “That old elf would sooner die than let harm come to that boy. Our elves won’t find him.”

Snape nodded, letting his head rest back against the bed he was on. He felt awful.

“Harry?”

“Not even asking about yourself yet? You never change, Severus. I’m afraid I can’t give you much information. Gringotts knows he’s alive as does Minerva, from what I’ve heard, but there is no information. I’m sorry Severus. I can only assume that he is safe. Not even Skeeter has located the boy.”

Severus smirked. He looked up at the black ceiling nearly twenty feet above him before closing his eyes. “He is safe, then.”

A tear fell against his exposed collarbone. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, Severus. I can’t save you.”

He shakily raised a hand and slipped off his glamoured ring. “Please,” he rasped, handing her the black ring. “Send this to Draco with instructions to…” He grimaced, the pain in his throat becoming unbearable.

“Harry?”

“Yes.”

“You should-”

“No,” he said, letting his arm smack against the wood bed frame as it dropped. “Lucius is clever.”

Narcissa nodded, pocketing the ring with a grim expression. The dark eyes tracked her movement with a woeful blink. He felt naked without the ring even though he’d only worn it for a couple of months. It reminded him of Harry, of his quiet promise to love him through the terror that filled their lives. Regardless, he was certain that whatever Lucius would have in store for him would involve Harry to some degree. With the ring, it would only jeopardize the brat further. 

“I wish-”

“Don’t.” Severus sighed. “Tell him.”

“No, I can’t. You don’t know what you’re asking! He’s going to-”

“Narcissa. Please. I’m no fool.” He swallowed, closing his eyes as he gathered courage. “I know where his inclinations lie.”

The blue eyes looked down at him a moment, analyzing and preparing a rebuttal but they were no match for the steeled expression Severus wore. The dark eyes lost their twinkle. They were focused off in the distance, off somewhere where he and Harry could have lived happily, in a future that could have never existed. 

“One favour, if I may.”

“Severus, anything.”

“See to it that my wand remains at the Manor.”

“Severus?”

“In case.”

She shook her head. “I’ve never known what to make of you. Neither did Regulus. He was such a strange boy that one.” A lopsided smile crossed her face. “I suppose you were as passionately misdirected towards do-gooding as he was, Severus.”

“A high compliment.”

She nodded slowly before kissing Snape’s cheek and leaving the room to fetch Lucius. Severus was left to stare up at the ceiling and ponder where exactly he had gone wrong over the years to end up naked, covered only by a blanket, in some dark dungeon room of Malfoy Manor. Tobias, Lily, James, Albus, all of them had brought him to this place. Every decision he had ever made, every person he had ever met all worked together to bring him to the mercy of Lucius Malfoy for the rest of his pitiful life. 

_ I am alive. Lucius would not keep me alive only to kill me again. Well, Harry, I suppose you were right this time. I did survive the war. I survived the death of the Dark Lord just to be Lucius’s new pet. _ He combed a shaky hand over his face.  _ Why must life be so cruel to me? What did I ever do to deserve such unbridled cruelty? _

The words of his father rolled in the back of his mouth. He huffed to himself, tracing the intricate patterns of the dark ceiling with his eyes.  _ Cruelty from the world because I was never a life that was intended to exist. From the moment of my conception, a burden with magical blood. A terribly miserable little accident. _

The door burst open, Lucius standing in the middle with his eyes blazing and a wicked grin pulling his unshaven face into strange shapes. Severus casually looked over.

“Lucius.”

“You killed him. You killed the Dark Lord!”

Severus nodded. “Yes. I had grown rather tired of his ramblings.”

“You fucking traitor.” Lucius went to raise his cane but the hit never came. 

“Wizards don’t use their hands, isn’t that it?”

Lucius leaned on his cane and looked down his nose at Severus without saying a word. “Regulus was wrong to believe in you, Severus. Lily was a fool.”

The heat Snape had once felt any time Lily’s name had been mentioned was no longer present. It had died beneath the whispered promise that he would protect Harry for Harry’s sake, because the young wizard deserved someone fighting for him not fighting for some debt to dead mother and father. Regulus on the other hand was a good man, far better than most men Snape had encountered. Regardless, he remained quiet, content to let Lucius stew and wonder why his words missed their mark.

Blue eyes narrowed in disgust. “Your mother-”

“Lucius, if your torment is verbal you may wish to seek out other forms of torture.”

The eldest Malfoy stalked forward, ripping his wand from his cane and lodging it into the sensitive spot beneath Snape’s throat. Through the lance of pain, Snape vaguely registered the metallic clatter of the cane hitting the stone floor.  _ Lucius was never so easy to rile. Perhaps murdering his master had that effect. _

“You have gone mad.”

“Severus Snape, I have finally begun to see clearly. The Dark Lord is only indisposed at the moment. I will see to it that he returns. I’ve seen once that it’s possible, I will make it possible twice. I am no fool and Albus, that barmy old idiot, will play into my hand. But you…” The weary face full of disgust and harsh lines of anger inched closer until Snape could smell the rancid breath wafting towards him. “You will pay for what you’ve done.

“I met with Harry Potter last week. He stole my son from me but not before  _ you _ meddled with his mind. What did you do, fucking traitor? What did you do to him?”

“Nothing,” he enunciated each syllable, spitting roughly against the face in front of his.

“You are a talented Legilimens,” Lucius muttered. “No matter. It is inconsequential.” Lucius pulled back slightly, wrangling his feral side. “I will kill that child if he does not bow to my will. And Harry, that insufferable Gryffindor, I will kill him Severus but first...first you will give me a grand show.

“There is an issue I’ve uncovered. I cannot find Harry Potter. According to every magical sweep of this damned  _ planet _ he does not exist.” Lucius dove back in, his white hair jabbing Snape in the eye. The words came out quick and jumbled, smashed together as if Lucius couldn’t get them out quick enough. “I know you have done something to help protect that brat and so help me, I may not find him but I  **will** ensure that if he does not die he will live a life so miserable that he will at least embrace death when it is presented to him and you. will. watch.”

Lucius took several steps back and raised his wand. Madness glinted in his eyes. “Capti Vitrum!” 

Severus was suddenly twisted and turning, forces pulling on his bones as he screamed. His eyes felt as if they were leaving his head, his sight gone. It was as though he were apparating and portkeying all at once. The sensation of tearing, twisting, and popping gnawed at him for what felt like an eternity before it all suddenly stopped. 

It was dark. Horribly so as if no light could even think to touch where he stood. He had no more than one large step in any direction. Though claustrophobia was never a fear of his, Severus was panicking. He was trapped, without a doubt, somewhere he did not understand. For all he knew, this was his afterlife and Lucius had killed him. Waving his hand and muttering various spells, Severus watched helplessly as nothing happened. Even on a bad day he could conjure a small ball of light in his hand to serve as a lumos. And yet, he continued to stand in the tight closet-like space with a terrifying tightening hugging his stomach. Worse, he realized that he would be unable to lie down and rest. He thought hard for several minutes, gathering from the Latin of the spell that he was most likely being held captive inside a mirror.

“Severus Snape, Sentio.” 

To his right, a long swath of glass opened up. There, standing ten feet below him was Lucius looking quite deranged and quite proud. It blurred for a moment and changed. He could only hear Lucius cackling and rambling on about his punishment but it hardly registered in his mind. There, on his hands and knees in the entryway of the cottage was Harry, retching and screaming with a bottle of liquor in his hands. Tears streaked his face as he punched at the floor, banged his head against the old walls. Blood ran down his knuckles as Harry laid into the hard stone floor of the entryway.

“Harry. Harry!”

“He cannot hear you, Severus, nor can he see you.”

A maddening thunder pounded in Snape’s chest. Harry continued to injure himself in a futile fight against the floor, ultimately leaning back against the wall, crying and pouring liquor down his gullet.

“Lucius-”

“Ah, ah. Silencio. You may talk but I will not hear it. I told you, Severus. You will watch. I may not be able to get my hands on that fool, but I have my hands on you. I will take great...pleasure...in watching you suffer.” Lucius paused, laughing lightly. “Severus, you will watch that boy die, make no mistake in assuming you can save him. He has a soulmate. I assume you know.”

_ Merlin help me. No. No! It isn’t possible. I...I wouldn’t have made an approach if I thought it were possible. I’ve made a terrible mistake. If I am his mate, then he… No. He was not of age. He would suffer, but he would not die. The sickness wouldn’t take him the way it did with Lupin. _

“Yes, Severus. That is precisely the look of panic I appreciate.” Lucius moaned and Severus backed up, hitting a wall very quickly. “You are my pet, Severus. Your pain is my pleasure. And do not think I owe you the courtesy of announcing my presence.” 

The image flickered briefly, before switching to a mirror just above Harry and Severus suddenly cursed himself for filling the cottage with mirrors. He had always had an appreciation for vintage mirrors but now he wished he had gone and broken them all. Harry was closer. His hair matted with grease, his lips torn apart and ugly with bloody scabs. Severus looked down at the worst sight yet. Those gorgeous green eyes were empty. All passion had been drained, all hope dead. The sobs he was working to contain burst from his lips as he watched Harry lift the bottle to his lips. The empty eyes looked right at Severus and they couldn’t see.

Lucius laughed in the background, the sick sound of something splattering curling around Snape’s throat.  _ Harry. Merlin, Harry no. Please, you must live. Live! Oh, Harry. You should have never loved a man like me.  _ Snape's fists clenched and unclenched as he worked to keep his face smooth. But when Harry jabbed the remnants of a broken bottle into his leg only to heal it over moments later, Severus fell to his knees and wept, Lucius and his pleasure be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving! I’m sure not all of you celebrate, but even if you don’t, you’re getting a little Thanksgiving present. I’m so grateful for all of you reading this and leaving comments. I couldn’t be happier to be able to give this story to you guys and I’m absolutely over the moon that you all are loving it so much. ;-; Thank you!!


	19. Mirror, Mirror

He didn’t know why he agreed to meet up with Hermione. It was Draco’s idea since Hermione had taken to owling both of them every day for the past two weeks. Draco sent all his letters forward to Harry who now kept the fire burning in anticipation of another frustrated letter.  _ Bloody can’t understand I want to be left alone. Send her an owl every month as it is. Don’t know what the issue is.  _ Harry scratched at his stubble before looking down at his hand with the ring. He knew exactly what the issue was.

Harry had dodged every opportunity to see her since he went back to Hogwarts. His old friends pushed and pushed and pushed for information concerning Voldemort’s defeat and when Harry snapped at them, begging them to lay off him and give him time, they had the nerve to act annoyed. They apologized a few months later but to Harry, it had never been the same. After he secured the Defense Against The Dark Arts position, he was too busy to be bothered with keeping up a dead relationship. Out of obligation more than anything, Harry wrote to Hermione and Ron about his escapades, the parts he could tell them anyway, but they never seemed interested. 

_ Never took “busy” as a good answer though. Didn’t matter that I was dealing with fucking idiots all day long.  _ Harry smirked.  _ I really have turned into Snape. But damn, the students  _ **_do_ ** _ get on your nerves. The only professor that I think is even sort of calm is Flitwick and he drinks enough for a small army of giants. Minerva certainly has enough some days. Especially last year when the Slytherins went ahead and released some Weasley contraptions in every hallway at midnight. _

His light expression quickly turned dark.  _ Can’t tell them where I go in the summer. Can’t tell them about my sudden weekend excursions to Europe. Even if I did, they still couldn’t understand why I traveled so much. Practically seen the whole bloody world and they’re still only interested in what happened that night. They don’t even care that the Death Eaters are alive and well, that they’ve been bloody planning something since Snape killed  _ **_him._ ** __

Harry was becoming increasingly stressed. The patrons of the little inn were all staring at him and he was positive this would make the next edition of the _Daily Prophet._ Every time he stepped into the world, it was a spectacle. He liked staying in his cottage. He liked staying in the untouched dungeon rooms that had once been his and Snape’s. His heart began hammering in his chest as he noticed the many eyes settling on him. He did not like this. Harry nervously squeezed the ring he wore, still half-expecting Severus to show up and smack him on the head. Periodically, Harry still squeezed the ring when he was in trouble or particularly missing the brooding man he couldn’t get to know better. As Hermione prattled off about Harry’s missing love life, he couldn’t help but give it a gentle squeeze. He’d heard this conversation too many times.

“ _ Harry _ , are you even listening?”

He nodded half-heartedly before bringing his latte to his lips. She huffed and crossed her arms. Harry had already begun to wander back to thoughts of the warm cottage and the research he was conducting in the potions lab. Of course, he couldn’t tell anyone about that, not even Draco though the two frequently discussed his adventures and discoveries. Ron and Hermione hardly knew that he obtained mastery in both potions and defense.

“You and Ron both, honestly. Neither one of you listens to me.”

Harry patted her hand and shrugged. As he retracted his hand, Hermione’s slender hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. “Harry, you’ve-”

“Changed. I know, ‘Mione.”

“What happened that night? You vanished from your cousin’s house and everyone was found dead, Voldemort included. Then Professor Snape went missing.”

“You don’t have to wince when you say his name anymore. He’s dead.”

Hermione frowned. “ _ You _ don’t say his name.”

“I think I’ve earned that right.”

Harry crossed his arms. This was precisely why he hadn’t bothered to talk to Hermione for the last decade. Sure, he owled her from time to time, especially whenever he came back from a trip but it wasn’t worth it. She would pester him about how much he had changed over the years, how he needed to lighten up, find someone to love. Hermione was as sweet as always but she had never really grown out of her naivety. Harry didn’t have time for that. He didn’t want to make time for anyone eager to ask questions and prod at him. Besides, with only Voldemort dead the world was as nightmarish as ever. The Aurors weren’t doing anything about it as the Ministry once again refused to acknowledge the problem. It rested squarely on Harry and Draco’s shoulders.

_ We’ve foiled enough plots, just the two of us, to embarrass the entire Auror department.  _ Indeed, Harry and Draco had spent an enormous amount of time together busting down people’s doors and hexing Death Eaters.  _ Snape would shit himself if he knew that most weeknights Draco and I sit in his old quarters enjoying each other’s company and talking about idiot students. Not that he has much of a choice. _

Draco had taken up the Potions position which Slughorn was entirely too eager to leave. Until his father was behind bars in Azkaban, the world wasn’t a safe place for the youngest Malfoy. Harry knew that Draco had his eyes on official business within the Ministry but, unfortunately, little could be done about that when they refused to even acknowledge the problem keeping so many talented witches and wizards occupied.

“Harry!”

“What?”

Hermione threw her arms up. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” he said looking around. “Have you told me?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You didn’t have to force me out, you know. I’d have been a lot nicer if-”

“If what? I just kept owling you?” An angry silence stretched between them. “You haven’t told anyone what happened. Since Voldemort died and Snape went missing you've been silent.”

“Missing.” He huffed.  _ That was the story I told them to sell, wasn’t it? My unspoken threat to the Death Eaters. I was not letting him go without a fight. _

“You refused to pensieve. You dodged the trial.”

“I did not.”

Hermione sat back. “Excuse me?”

“The trial about you-know-who's death. I was there. I gave them my memories under a condition. I obliviate them afterward, leaving only the agreement to obliviate and their decision on the trial.”

“They didn’t say anything about that.”

“Why would they? I told them not to. There were...sensitive things involved in those memories. Things I’d rather the whole world not see.”

“Well, then the only time you  _ did _ do anything publically was when Snape was on trial. And they blocked the whole thing, obliviated everyone who went to the trial on your orders. Which I guess makes more sense now that I’ve heard you’ve done it once already. But...but we never knew what happened at either of those trials. Harry…” Holding her hands palm up in exasperation, Harry suspected she expected an answer. Instead, he dropped a chocolate into the palm of her hands. “At least tell me why he got the Order of Merlin, First Class.”

“No.”

“Harry, come on. This is the first time you’ve agreed to see me in years. I have to show up to Hogwarts during the school year if I even want to catch a glimpse of you. And I  _ know _ when you see me you run back to the dungeons and set the wards against me. You’re becoming like Moody.”

“I’m a Defense teacher, seems appropriate.” Harry looked off to the side. “Of course, I didn’t want to talk to you. Oh, don’t look hurt, ‘Mione. I just mean...you and Ron can’t understand. You weren’t there and you’re only interested in getting answers out of me.”

“It’s about seventh year isn’t it?”

“You didn’t ask if I was all right. Not once.” Hermione was quiet. “Did you know I loved chocolate?”

“Everyone knows you love chocolate.”

“Not any chocolate, this chocolate. The nice stuff in the green box with the little bow. If you knew what that chocolate meant to me, then you’d know the story and why I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Harry, this is the first time I’ve seen you in nearly a year. And the first time I’ve  _ ever _ coaxed you out of hiding to talk to me since Hogwarts.” Her finger jabbed at his arm. “When you’re not holed up in those dungeons, you’re completely hidden. No one can find you. Where do you go?”

With a huff and a shake of his head he sighed. “Why would I tell you ‘Mione? It’s been eleven years. Malfoy is still out there. The Death Eaters. I’m not holed up. I have quiet evenings with Draco, you know. And I’ve traveled all over. Both of us have but I… I’m a Potions Master, obviously Defense Master...”

“You’ve written as much. But where do you go, Harry? Why can’t you just come to see me or Ron? I’m trying, you know.”

“If you knew about those chocolates…” 

Harry trailed off. The foam of his latte jiggled against the sides of the cup as he brought it up to his mouth. The bitter coffee touched something inside him as he remembered the delicate aftertaste of coffee on Snape’s tongue. Wandlessly casting a silencing charm around them, Harry casually glanced around at the patrons eager to catch some piece of information about the boy-who-lived to feed to the papers. He kept staring at the cup absently wondering if Snape drank coffee every night thinking about Harry’s arrival to his home.

“You see Draco, though.”

Green eyes shot up, startled. 

Hermione continued. “What, think I didn’t pay attention to how much time you spend with him?”

“No, I…”

“You see him a lot, Harry. Is there...Is that the reason why you aren’t telling me? Is there something between you two? You know Ron and I will love you no matter what, don’t you? No matter who you-”

Harry laughed. The sharp crack of it silenced everyone in the shop around them as its sheer magical power pushed through his own charms. It was a sick laugh, filled with hatred and bitterness. Hollow.

“Not a damn thing between that dramatic arse and me. But I am gay.”

“Then why-”

“Because he knows. He  _ knows _ .” Harry swallowed, lowering his voice and controlling his temper. “In our sixth year, when you and Ron were under the Imperius he was there. All the Slytherins were but Draco… Draco was my best friend. He…” 

_ He knew Severus. Knew him like I did. Saw him laugh, saw the good in his eyes, saw all his jokes, and saw me. Draco cried with me when he found out. Apparated directly to the cottage and screamed outside until I let him in when I told him what I was going to do. The dark magic I needed to research. Sat up with me so many nights at Grimmauld Place and the cottage. Let me cry, let me scream. Hell, even dueled with me sometimes if I needed it. _

_ Draco told me to dance with Severus. Told me his favorite foods, books. Draco ate dinner with us. He fucking  _ **_knew_ ** _ I loved Severus. He knows I love him. Knows I lost him. Knows...knows I won’t rest until I find him. Alive or dead, I have to find his body at least and Draco knows that. He cares. _

“He is my best friend, ‘Mione. You and Ron mean the world to me, but Draco… He saw something else. I can’t...can’t tell you how many times I’ve almost…” Harry looked down again. “I’ve almost done some very stupid things and Draco has stopped me. He is my best friend, Hermione. I know that you and I and Ron were the Golden Trio. I know. But Draco… Draco is the most important person in my life. He saw something that broke me, that no one else saw. Something no one can ever know about anymore.”

“You can tell me, Harry.”

“No. I can’t. You and Ron abandoned me that last year. You guys felt so bad that you hardly talked to me at all. I stayed in the Slytherin common room more than Gryffindor even though I was still in our house. Gods, they made me a damn honorary bed to sleep in I was down there so often. You don’t know what it was like. I was so damned alone and everyone heralded me as the savior and I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t. But Draco…”

“It isn’t just how chummy you are with Draco. Ron and I couldn’t care less about that. I’m concerned, Harry. Something happened that night and you haven’t been the same.”

“I’ve just grown up! That’s fucking all. I’ve grown up and I’ve learned that this world isn’t fair and that it sucks. It hurts so bad to be alive sometimes I  _ wish _ I were dead but I can’t be dead because the Death Eaters are still here. I still have unfinished business. And I can’t talk to you and  _ Auror Ron _ because it’s bloody pointless. You’re part of the system that broke me.”

“It’s more than that, isn’t it? More than Draco being your best friend. More than the system being corrupt.” Hermione pushed her bushy hair over her shoulders. “It’s Snape.”

Harry clenched his eyes shut quickly, banishing the tears before they had a chance to form.

“ _ Professor _ Snape, to you.”

“You trusted him. I know you stayed in his quarters but...there’s more to it than that. Remember, I had dinner with you, Draco, and  _ Professor _ Snape.” Hermione sighed in exasperation. “You know, I’m not stupid. I’m bloody more intelligent than just about anyone out there, Harry. Do you think I didn’t pick up on it? I’m not Ron.” 

Harry could almost hear the soft “oi” that often followed. But Ron wasn’t here. Harry wouldn’t meet with Hermione if Ron came with. He missed his friend but he had never been able to get over those terrible words Ron had whispered in his ear that night, made him feel like he was worthless just because he was gay. Just because he fancied Severus. Part of him wondered that when the truth came out about him actually fancying Severus, Ron would turn to attack him all over again.

“Ron made me feel-”

“And he’s sorry, Harry. He’s sorry. I didn’t know you were gay until right now. How could he have known? Besides, it wasn’t him. You know that. He’s  _ sorry _ , Harry.”

“So am I.” 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Harry closed his eyes for a moment. This wasn’t going at all how he wanted. He was too close to flying off the handle. Too close to picking up his wand and hexing her quiet for the rest of her life.  _ I can’t hide forever. I think this is the end of the line. What does Draco say? Only a matter of time before Granger is on you and you can’t lie? Well, today’s the day, Draco. _

“It’s been eleven years, Hermione. This isn’t going to be easy and I don’t want to do this but you aren’t going to ever leave me alone if I don’t. Right?”

She helplessly shrugged. “Something like that, yeah.”

“All right. Call Ron, get him here. And better Floo Draco. He’s the only idiot lately who knows how to keep me in check.”

“Harry...”

“Oh no, you don’t get to feel bad about this. Go on.”

Draco was there a second after Ron, storming through the fireplace and over to Harry. His rage, apparent. Draco knew exactly why he was being summoned to this coffee date and Harry was suddenly glad he had talked this over with Draco the night before.  His shoes clacked loudly against the stones as he hurried over, his neatly trimmed blonde hair flapping slightly as he walked over. Those gray eyes swept over the red-head and his wife before flicking a secondary set of stronger silencing charms and bubbles around the four. He glared at them a moment, standing beside Harry protectively. Hermione jumped at the expression and Ron paled. Dropping in a seat next to Harry, pride be damned, he grabbed Harry’s shoulders and swiveled him to look him dead in the eye.

“These idiots bothering you? Don’t bloody lie to me you git.”

“They always do.” Harry nodded slowly and said, “Guess it’s the end of the line.” 

Harry watched the blonde scrunch up his face. Malfoy’s didn’t emote often but Draco’s small little frown spoke volumes to Harry. He knew what was coming next. Long, slender arms wrapped Harry in a hug and the lips came close to his ear. Harry heard both Hermione and Ron gasp at Draco’s outward display of affection.

“Do you need help getting out of here?”

“Not today, Draco.”

“You don’t have to do this. If you aren’t ready, I’ll apparate you out of here and face the kidnapping charges.”

Harry laughed a little. Hugging back and appreciating his friendship. “No. I...I’m going to tell them.”

The arms squeezed tighter. “About Snape or that night?”

“Both. Everything. Snape. Vernon. Dumbledore. Vol...Volde…” Harry’s breathing started accelerating as he began to spin out of control.

“Shh. You don’t need to say that fucker’s name.”

Harry meekly nodded. 

“I’m here, Harry. Remember, these fuckers don’t deserve anything. If you don’t want to, I can just-”

“It’s okay. I have to.” 

Draco nodded and patted Harry on the back before pulling back and staring at him.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that.”

Harry was hesitant but when he looked into the determined gray eyes he found his Gryffindor courage for the first time in eleven years. 

“I have to tell them.”

Draco nodded curtly before leaning back in the chair and sipping on the cafe au lait Hermione had ordered him before he arrived. 

Turning his eyes to Ron he said, “Got a problem, weasel?” Harry kicked him in the shins. “Merlin, ouch.  _ Weasley. _ ” Draco gracefully crossed his legs so they were out of Harry’s kicking range.

Ron shook his head a little. “No. Just didn’t know you two were so bloody close.”

Draco took a long drink from the deep mug, flicking his eyes over to Harry before settling back on Ron. 

“Well, isn’t that what this party’s about?  _ Learning _ , Weasely.”

“You called me Weasely.”

“That is your name isn’t it or have you gone and done something about that too? Really never was a great surname.”

Harry’s mind drifted off.  _ I can’t do this. What the bloody hell was I thinking? I can’t just come out and tell these people not only am I gay but I fucking loved Severus and oh, by the way, Vernon raped me and Voldemort...Voldemort did the same. And...and… _

A sharp kick to his shin had him hissing. “Thanks, Draco.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“My pleasure.”

“Oi, why’re you kicking him?”

He scoffed. “He did just kick me.” Draco set his cup down, no longer joking. “He was off in his head, Ron. That’s a bad place for him if you spent more than ten seconds looking at him, you’d be able to tell that, you little-”

“Okay,” Hermione interjected. “Harry wanted you guys to be here, both of you. So I think maybe we should be giving them the benefit of the doubt, don’t you, Ron? Maybe there’s something we don’t understand yet?”

“Right, sorry Harry.”

The blonde eyebrows quirked up. The gray eyes were back on Harry. His mouth was paralyzed and his hands were clenched in fists in his lap. Harry showed no signs of opening up, whatever openness he’d had earlier had vanished.

“I’ll go first then,” said Draco. “I’m gay.”

Harry barely registered before Ron broke out in hysterics. He was red in the face, sputtering over his words until finally, he got out a strange “congratulations” which broke across Draco’s face in a loud laugh. The three, Ron, Hermione, and Draco laughed at Ron’s reaction but Harry was silent. He knew what Draco was up to, softening the room for him. It worked, but the truth on Harry’s tongue burned more than Draco’s confession. 

As the laughter died down, Harry leaned forward, elbows resting on the table and a steeled look to his face that only Draco and Severus had seen.

“I’m gay too, imagine that.” This time Ron closed his eyes in shame. _He's thinking about Hogwarts. Just wait till he hears about Snape._

“Mate…”

“No, no. It was a long time ago, Ron. It’s okay. But don’t worry, Draco isn’t my boyfriend or anything.”

Draco drank another sip of coffee. “No matter how many times I push him off me, he keeps coming back for-”

“Shut  _ up _ , Draco.” Harry turned to Ron. “Really, I’ve never done anything with him.”

“You did  _ kiss _ me. Or was it so spectacular you’ve chosen to ignore that?”

“You kissed him?” Ron squeaked.

“Well, it was that or get fucking caught by Dumbledore at the dance swapping out the punch!” Harry sighed. “This is such a long story and I can’t go into detail today. Draco knows. It takes time to talk about.”

“Eleven years and I’m just getting caught up.”

Harry nodded. “Hermione, you’re right. It is about Severus but,” he held up his hand, silencing her question, “first there is something I have to explain. You two know that I had a bad childhood.”

Ron nodded and Hermione looked down at her hands briefly.

“Vernon and Petunia were terrible to me. I lived in the cupboard until the letter and again after Sirius. Vernon beat me a lot when I was young. Starved me too. I just ate scraps or whatever I could sneak when I was out doing chores. You guys know that. But...when I turned ten…”

With tears in his eyes, he continued. “Vernon raped me.” Hermione’s mouth dropped open. Harry held a hand up. “Dumbledore knew, I told him as soon as I got to Hogwarts. Tried to tell everyone over the years, everyone but Snape. Dumbledore didn’t care. Thought I could use the ego check, learn what pain is. He was...making me a good soldier. He made Pomfrey swear before she even saw me never to heal me for the stuff that happened at that house. Wizard’s oath. I think he did that to a lot of the teachers but I don't think Snape accepted that. I _know_ he didn't.

“I know you lot are used to seeing Dumbledore as a kind guy, aside from the Imperius I guess, and Severus as the villain but it isn't that at all. Dumbledore... he let me suffer. Forced me back there no matter how much I begged. I had to steal nutrition potions when I got back to school every year. He let me suffer for a very long time. And in the end, sixth year and that summer, he tried everything in his power to get me killed. It was twisted in his head that if I died, I’d take Vol...I’d take him with me.”

Quietly she said, “That’s why he retired after the hearing, isn’t it. I always thought it had to do with the Imperius. It doesn’t, does it?”

“Very little. It mattered but you two were just means to an end. He was trying to kill me. That’s why he’s in…”

“Azkaban,” said Ron. “But no dementor’s kiss. I looked over that case. Not much about it. And when did you stop saying Voldemort?”

“He’s popular. Dumbledore has too many people who owe him something. Think he's just biding his time, honestly. I tried to get him a dementor's kiss bu no matter what I did, and I did a lot, it just wasn’t enough. There were pieces missing. Confessions that I don’t have. I need so much proof to go against the entire wizarding world, you know? And Ron,” Harry looked over to Draco who sat up. “I...I don’t like saying it.”

Draco said, “He was there when the Dark Lord died. If he doesn’t want to say his name, we can respect that, can’t we?”

“Oh, of course. I didn’t know, Harry. Dumbledore...” He let out a low whistle. “I didn’t think he was that...fucked up.”

“Very few do, Ron. He tried to kill me so many times. Fed you-know-who information all the time. Gods, nearly got poisoned by some witch at a muggle diner. If Snape hadn’t had a bezoar, I’d be dead. Dumbledore was awful. The night of the attack on my house, he had someone tell  _ him _ where I was living. The only one stopping him was…”

Harry stopped on the name, suddenly grateful when Draco said, “Professor Snape.”

Nodding, Harry said, “The night you-know-who was killed, Dumbledore plotted to have me killed since he was sure my death would weaken him. Severus and I figured out that Dumbledore had discovered a way to take down you-know-who himself. I was expendable, better dead than alive to him. But, I made for a fantastic trap.”

“Oh, Harry.”

“I know, ‘Mione. He told Vernon how to contact you-know-who, found that out later, and sold me out. Vernon...He’s dead. That night, those two were...were...Draco?” 

“You’re sure?” Harry nodded. “Vernon Dursely was a...”

Harry tuned him out, waiting for another kick to the shin. Relaying the gruesome details to anyone ever again was too much for Harry. Instead, he trusted Draco to pass along the information with dignity without leaving room for question. It was too much for Harry to relive those tender moments of his childhood, that night at Hogwarts, and the terrible day when Severus had died protecting him. When the gentle nudge bumped against his legs, Harry looked up to see a new sight.

Ron’s cheeks were red and he was wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve. Hermione was decidedly looking into her empty coffee cup as if it held some answer to the pain in her heart. When Ron met Harry’s eyes, Harry felt his entire insides twist. Never in his life had he wanted a hug more from his long-time friend.  _ He knows. He sees me too now. _

Ron said, “I’ve been a right git. I know there’s more, Harry, but I just...I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t tell you. How could you know?”

“I could have been understanding. I could have just bloody been there for you like him.” He pointed towards Draco. “I’ve been awful.”

“Yes,” said Draco. “You have. But you’re here now so shut up and listen to him.”

_ Tactful as always, Malfoy. _ Draco shot him a lopsided grin and went back to sipping his drink.

Harry took a shaky breath in. “Well, you don’t have to feel too bad. Snape walked in and saw me in that position and just killed Vernon. Blew him into pieces. Some wordless spell. Still haven’t figured it out.”

Hermione fidgeted. “But how did you get so close? To where Professor Snape coming in and rescuing you was no big deal.”

Harry smiled. “This part I don’t mind so much.”

Draco cut in, speaking into his cup. “So don’t you two Gryffindor idiots go get brave and be dicks.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I wanted to start occlumency lessons again. Things had been bad and I just thought it would help so I went up to talk to him about it. Of course, he was excited. Dumbledore told me starting occlumency lessons again would be no issue. Turns out, he was thinking about it too. I really wanted to go see Snape again. I had been practicing myself so I was skilled enough to show him things. I wanted to tell Snape so badly about Vernon which was weird, I know. We’d always been at each other’s throats up until that summer at the Burrow. Remember Ron?”

“You two were pretty chummy.”

“Yeah, we were. After Sirius and Remus died, I was tired. Didn’t feel like dealing with you two and everyone else all the time. Just needed some quiet, you know?” Ron shrugged but Hermione emphatically nodded, getting a snorting laugh from Draco. “It was all too much all the time.”

“I got to know him a little better and I just knew I could trust him. We had our little nightly routine with tea and quiet. Sometimes we walked around the Burrow, away from the craziness, but most nights you remember we just sat on the couch. Talked a little, not much. The weeks before I came to the Burrow were so bad, the worst they’d ever been and I was just scared and for whatever reason, I trusted him. He was always the same you know? There was always something in his eyes that I understood. I really appreciated just being able to exist next to him. I don’t know, just  _ knew _ . 

“So, anyway, back when I got to Hogwarts I practiced enough to know I could show him what was happening and trust him with it. Lessons started on his birthday no less. Selfish twit wasn’t I? I found out from Minerva, actually, what his favorite chocolates were. Did you guys know Dumbledore forbade the entire staff from giving him gifts?

Ron looked right cross, his face going slightly red.

“I thought he didn’t get it at first, but when he got it, he took me into his rooms. We just sat quietly. It was so bloody nice. But it didn’t really last. He ended up storming into Dumbledore's office…”

“And you,” said Hermione, “probably figured out a way to eavesdrop didn’t you?”

Harry nodded. “He was so angry at Dumbledore he practically exploded. He had his wand jabbed in the Headmaster’s throat. When he came back, he let me stay the night and offered his rooms up if I had any more nightmares. Literally said, come in any time. I came back, as you know, you saw the room. That’s where I went all those nights when you and Ron thought I was trying to be a Death Eater.”

Hermione slapped his wrist. “We’ve talked about that.”

Harry shook his head with a small huff. “Did I ever tell you how every time I had a nightmare, every time I felt scared or thought Vernon was in Gryffindor Tower, I’d pull on my cloak and run down to the dungeons? He had a whole room set up just for me.”

She nodded. Of course, she knew, she had seen the room. Harry’s voice rose, nearing hysterical. “Did I tell you that I got my Potions Mastery because of him? I loved brewing with him. We spent every weekend up to our elbows in gunk and potions and I loved it. Did I tell you that? No, don’t think I did. Did I tell you that we created the damn potion to resist the Imperius together? Did I tell you I loved him? Did I even tell you that I wanted…” Harry trailed off. “I wanted to be with him.”

He hung his head, letting his unruly hair cover the pained wrinkles on his forehead. Shutting his eyes and removing his glasses, he rubbed at his eyes to stop the tears. Holding up the hand with the ring on it he continued. He was happy for their silence. Draco’s hand rested on his shoulder, a subtle sign of encouragement.

Without picking up his head he said, “The last night before I had to leave for the Dursleys, he gave me this. It’s enchanted. Said he couldn’t get me out of going but that if I needed him, to squeeze the damn ring. And for a month I didn’t. I thought I’d be safe. I thought… No. I had hoped I would be fine and I could just go live with him when I came of age.” 

Harry let out a ragged breath. He clenched his right hand, thinking about Snape’s ring on his dresser. The ring Narcissa had given to Draco to give to him. Two halves to a whole, each with a touch of Snape’s magic inside. Pulling his hand away from his face, he looked towards the ceiling before downing the rest of his latte. Hermione had scooted her chair next to his and was rubbing a hand across his back.

“One night Vernon decided he needed me, part of some stupid plan, and…”

“You don’t have to tell us, Harry.”

“Yeah, mate. It’s okay.”

Harry shook his head. “You’ll never leave me alone otherwise. Besides, it was eleven years ago. Shouldn’t I be over this by now?” Draco’s hand squeezed tightly before dropping away.

The red eyes turned to look at Hermione and she nearly burst into tears at the sight of her friend so deeply wounded that the life didn’t flicker in his eyes. The haunting emptiness in those green eyes scared her.

Looking back down at his hands now clasped around the dark mug he said, “I spent so much time with him. He was such a good man. Always had my favorite chocolate in his rooms. Made sure I was always covered up when I slept. Read me potion books in the middle of the night when I woke up screaming. One night he even drew me a bath because I couldn’t stop crying. I knew he loved me and he never acted on it. ‘Mione, he was such a  _ good _ man. A brave man. 

“Some nights he came back from meetings with Voldemort bloody and beaten but he still put me first. Complained the whole time I took care of him, insisting I needed some decaf coffee, chocolate, and rest.” Harry’s knuckles had gone white as he clutched at the cup. “Bastard never let anyone else see that. I think it was an accident he let me see. But I saw. I really saw him, Hermione.

“And I saw such a good man. He was funny too. It took some getting used to but boy, he made me laugh more than anyone else. He cared so much. Insisted that I never protect him. Rescued me so many times. Merlin, he was the best man I’ve ever known.”

Draco cut in, a sad tightness to his voice. “He was a brave man. I saw him at many meetings outmaneuvering everyone else on intellect alone and saving as many people as he could. He saved me so many times but Harry...Severus loved him. I have no doubt.”

Harry nodded. “One night, he thought he was dying and he told me he would love me if he could. He  _ would _ . I…”

Interjecting, Hermione squeezed his shoulder. “You really loved him?”

With a tremble to his voice, he said, “So much.”

Harry tugged the collar of his robes loose. The robes were strikingly similar to Snape’s and he wondered what the man would think if he saw Harry dressed as he was now. His throat bobbed up and down as it fought against the tremendous sadness coiling in his gut.

Draco said, “Harry.”

It rooted him back to the present. This wasn’t the time for a walk down memory lane. He had a story to tell.

“Vernon took me up to my old room and I was about to fight back as he, you know, but then someone was standing on my hands. I looked up and it was you-know-who.” The pitch of Harry’s voice shifted higher as he grew panicked remembering the night. “Draco’s filled you in on the rest but I squeezed the ring.

“It took a second, but I could hear something downstairs. Gods, it was so bad. There was a  _ battle _ in my house. A full-blown battle. The light of the spells was like lightning, flashing up to my room. Then I heard Snape coming up the stairs. Never thought I’d be so happy to hear those footsteps.” Harry sighed. “It was too late to prevent Vernon but Snape… He killed him. He killed Vernon. Stunned the Dark...stunned him. 

“Merlin, he was at my side so fast. Pulled up my pants and healed me quickly. Even gave me my glasses back. I had a fracture in my skull and he healed that.” He turned around, parting his shaggy, long hair enough to reveal a long scar in the shape of a backward “c”. “It was from Dudley’s bust. He healed it, healed all of me, and even cleaned me up. I’ll never forget how he looked, ‘Mione.” 

A muscle in Harry’s jaw twitched, tightening the stubble. 

“He looked sad. Not afraid, but so horribly sad for me. Maybe for him too. Then he wasn’t at my side anymore. The fight had started between Severus and…” Harry turned his head to the side and looked at Hermione from over the rim of his wire glasses. He was shaking. Draco stood abruptly and clamped a hand down on Harry’s shoulder, knowing what was coming next and announcing his threatening presence.

“‘Mione I didn’t kill… I didn’t kill Voldemort. Severus did. He hit him with some spell that made him turn to ash. Severus killed him to save me. That’s why he has the Order of Merlin, First Class.”

Hermione gasped and recoiled from Harry. The pale hand on his shoulder grabbed more tightly as Harry began to tremble. He didn’t see Hermione start to cry. He didn’t even register that Ron had begun talking to him. Harry was lost in the memory and Draco was only going to allow it to go so far before he apparated them out of there. For the first time in eleven years, he had spoken the name and made it real.

Harry’s words came out rushed and jumbled. “In the process, he died. Voldemort got him with his wand in his neck and someone downstairs had already gotten his arm pretty bad.” Making a delicate motion across his face he said, “I felt his blood hit me. Then it was over. I hardly registered what happened before I was at his side and he was…” 

Harry paused, composing himself with his eyes closed again. “He was dying. I couldn’t stop it.” Looking down at his hands now palm up, Harry could practically feel the warmth of Snape’s blood. “He grabbed me and we kissed. He kept telling me to go, to use the portkey he gave me, and after that kiss, I could hear the others coming up the stairs. I kissed him again, I couldn’t leave him. His hair was so soft, his eyes… He was so scared and sad. Because of me. I loved him, really loved him and I knew he loved me. And I knew I was the reason he was dying. I wouldn’t go without him so the last time I kissed him, he tricked me and made me touch the portkey.

“But right before he did, I looked up and Lucius was there. The last thing I saw were tears in Snape’s eyes. There was so much blood, all over me and him and the floor. And I could taste it. But the look in his eyes, Merlin. It was so sad. I knew he wanted to love me. He promised he wouldn’t die easily. Told me this wasn’t easy and that he loved me. And then I was gone. Apparated to his cottage, Hermione.

“It was his  _ home _ , Ron. That’s where I went. To his damn home. Had a room made up for me. My lion, a chair in his sitting room. Even had two pensieves set up to explain his part in everything. I’ve been living in his home because he made it the safest place in the world, just for me. I left him to die with Lucius. And he did die. Alone. Without someone to...without someone to hold him.”

Draco had sat back down. A pale hand squeezed Harry’s and the gray eyes teared up. Harry met Draco’s gaze and the tears threatening to fall finally did. The blonde shook his head slightly, almost in disbelief that eleven years ago this had happened. Hermione and Ron looked at both of the boys.

It was Ron who broke the dam. “Draco?”

The blonde lashes squinted shut as the tears freely fell. Any hint of composure fell away as the man tightened his grip on Harry’s arm. Harry was crying now too, his lower lip trembling as he fought against the memories. Between the two of them was the deep void of agony the likes of which neither Hermione nor Ron could ever understand. Draco uncrossed his leg and slammed his boot against the ground.

“My  _ father _ ,” he spat out, “came back covered in Snape’s blood. He and Bellatrix and the others had brought Snape’s body back and they were screaming about his betrayal. I saw, of course, and I was as composed as I am now. I attended the banquet celebrating the death of that fucking man. And the rest of them, they all started looking for ways to bring Voldemort back. All while laughing about Snape. Two weeks later, I was on the run with Harry.”

He shook his head in disgust. The sorrow was gone from his voice, the perfect Malfoy facade securely back in place. Harry nodded to himself, realizing his own tears had dried and the exhausted look he sported everywhere he went was back too. 

_ We’re bloody good actors, aren’t we? _

Suddenly the sadness flipped into anger. Hands now in fists he said, with a growl in his voice, “Does that answer your bloody questions? Snape killed him. Severus  _ died _ for me and sent me to his  _ home _ . A home with a room ready for me. Chocolates I loved, a Gryffindor mug, everything. Everything I could possibly need, clothes, food, my damn stuffed lion. Git even had the shampoo I liked. All just in case I needed rescuing.

“So you want to know where I’ve been for eleven years? In a magical house with wards set to accept Severus and me and Draco. No one else. I’ve been living in his  _ home _ , Hermione. Caring for his plants, dusting off his potion ingredients, and buying fresh stores of the food he likes for eleven years thinking someday he’ll be back. He even left me his memories, explaining my mum and everything. I’m brewing his potions, making his bed, living in his home. All because I can’t admit that I’m a coward who left a good man to die.”

Draco, yelling now, said, “Don’t you fucking say that. We’ve been  _ over _ this.” Sharp nails dug into Harry’s arm. “Watch. Your. Self. Potter.”

_ I am losing it, aren’t I? I need to calm down, quickly too. _

Banishing the silencing charm, Hermione cocked her head. “Harry…”

“No, don’t say anything. You wanted to know and now you do. That’s all there is to this.”

Grumbling, Hermione pulled a mirror out of her bag. Opening it and placing it in front of Harry, she leaned back in the chair.

“All right, fine. But you aren’t to blame, Harry. At least start caring for yourself. Look at yourself. Tell me what you see because I see a good man too. One who isn’t to blame for this.”

“Come on. I-”

“Tell me.”

“Draco, do I-”

“Let the woman have her fun.”

Looking in the mirror with a roll of his eyes, Harry felt slightly disturbed. It had been a while since he had taken a good look in a mirror despite the cottage being full of them. Instead of a sixteen-year-old, bright-eyed boy, he saw a twenty-seven-year-old man. Unshaven stubble lined his jaw. He had the foam of his latte stuck on his upper lip. Wiping a finger against his lips, he suddenly remembered the kiss, urgent and needy, Severus had pressed there. The sadness rolled over him igniting a burning in his chest. Blinking, he took in the rest of his face. Dark circles colored his eyes. The once clean glass aiding his vision was smudged and Harry was surprised to see there was still blood on the rims. 

_ Snape’s blood. _ Harry cleared his throat, unable to remove the glasses and clean them.  _ Can’t let go of the bloody bastard. Never thought that’d be my problem. No wonder Hermione is so worried. I look bloody awful. _

His eyes were bloodshot and his lids looked as if he were a thunderstorm. Brushing a hand through the long, scraggly hair, he realized his scar stood out, purple and angry against skin that was once golden and warm. He looked cold, half-dead, and barely alive.

Staring at the green eyes in the reflection, Harry sighed. “I see Harry. That’s all. So I’m a little worn around the edges. I’m not at Hogwarts anymore, not as a student anyway. Don’t have Snape breathing down my neck about cleanliness and all that.”

Flicking his eyes up to Hermione, he held her gaze long enough to see her disappointment.

“You’re telling me there’s nothing wrong with that reflection?” 

Even Draco cocked an eyebrow.

“I’m telling you I’m tired.”

Hermione sighed and moved to grab the mirror. Squeezing his ring as he looked down at the reflection for one last moment, Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck raise. Standing directly behind mirror-Harry was Snape. 

Harry’s hand clamped down on Hermione’s. “Don’t fucking touch it.”

“Harry-” Draco started

“Shh. Nobody move.”

He let go and leaned forward and to the side. Yes, that was Severus in all his glory. Those dark robes hugged close to his neck but not enough to hide the long, pink scar winding across his pale flesh. The hair was longer, hardly though as it just ghosted the top of his shoulders. But those obsidian eyes were the same. Dark, intelligent, and always seeing.

_ He looks so sad. When did he start looking like that? _

Snape’s eyes didn’t look at Harry, not when Harry made a face and not when he waved his hands. They gazed off in various directions but they never  _ saw _ . Harry could tell that wherever this Snape was, he was trapped and forbidden from seeing Harry at the moment. Slowly the image began to blur and Harry’s heart started to burn.

_ I’m here. I’m right fucking here. _

“Dammit, Severus!”

Harry’s fist rattled the cups on the table. Onyx eyes snapped down meeting the tired, bloodshot Gryffindor eyes. The world stopped. Harry couldn’t hear Hermione. He couldn’t feel the tug on his sleeves. He couldn’t hear Draco yelling nor could he see the two Gryffindors whip out their wands to try and conceal the damage he was doing. Harry’s magic was popping glasses all across the wizarding pub’s shelves and a gale-force wind was swirling around the patrons. All Harry could feel was the tingle of Snape’s magic as their eyes met. Snape’s eyebrows rose as tension tightened his posture.

Then a soft sound rolled across the desert of silence. “Harry?”

“Yeah. Is it…” With a huff realizing he had long since left Hogwarts, he said, “Severus?”

“Yes, I… I’m unsure of where I’ve gone. Though I do know I’m in a mirror.”

“What do you see?”

His eyes briefly scanned the area around him. “Nothing. Darkness and you.” His eyes narrowed. “Harry, what’s happened to you?”

“A lot. Tell me, how long have you been there?”

“I can’t say. It feels as though I just woke up. I’ve been in and out.” A grave expression pulled Snape’s head back as he looked over his nose. “Has it been long?”

A crack in Harry’s voice paired with a nod softened Snape’s gaze. “I’m twenty-seven.”

“Happy Birthdays are in order, then.”

Twitching on the corners of Snape’s mouth was a smile. Harry felt a phenomenal sense of loss wash over him as he grabbed the sides of the table. Pitchers and cups began exploding in patrons' hands. “I’ll find you. I will make this right, I promise. Just tell me, what happened after I left?”

“Lucius-”

The mirror cracked, sending Snape’s image away as the bartender finished his spell.

“Damn thing was enchanted. You want to ruin the place?”

Grabbing the man by the throat, Harry rammed him into the nearby wall and began spitting across the leathery skin as he screamed. It took Draco a good amount of effort before he was able to pry Harry off the man. 

“Harry. Harry! Damn fucking git, get  _ off _ him.” Draco shoved a growling Harry into Ron and Hermione’s arms. “I’ll patch this up here. Don’t worry about him. I’ll be right out.”

As they entered the cool air of a British winter, she hissed, “What in Merlin’s name is wrong with you? You could have killed him!”

“Shouldn’t have stopped me.”

“Harry James Potter!”

“You shouldn’t have stopped me! That son of a-”

“Oi, she was just trying to-”

“To what? Tell me that I’ve gone batty? Harry James Potter fucking savior of the wizarding world has gone off his rockers! That  _ asshole _ in there just...just destroyed the only connection I have to-”

“Harry.” Draco’s cold voice cut through the air. Chest heaving, Harry turned the manic eyes on Draco. Rational thought fled Harry as he whipped his wand out and angled it towards Draco.

“Severus was in that mirror, Draco.” Draco’s eyes widened. 

“No. At the Manor, there’s a room of mirrors but Lucius moves it every month, kind of like Hogwarts with the moving stairs. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow Harry, before the hols.”

The crack of apparition left Harry feeling vaguely alone.

“Harry?” Hermione asked.

“I gotta go. Owl me about that mirror. ”

“Harry, the mirror wasn’t that complicated. Just charmed to show whoever looks into it a truth they’re overlooking. I thought that you’d see yourself drinking too much or something. What did you-”

“I gotta go. Owl me  _ everything _ about it. And hey, good talking to you two. Next weekend? Dinner?”

“Uh, sure. Okay!” 

Harry apparated to the nearest apparition point to the home Snape had left him, questions buzzing in his mind. _He's alive. Severus._ Harry sighed, beginning his long walk back through the forest towards the cottage with warmth in his heart for the first time in eleven years. _You're alive. Gods, you're alive._ Harry was crying but he didn't notice. Picking up his pace, he slowly began to run, content to feel alive again. Severus Snape was alive and Harry's world had blossomed into an explosion spring. He knew without a doubt in his heart it was only a matter of time before Snape was near him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you guys go! A third chapter this week! Hope you all enjoy it :) Let me know what you think and as always, thanks so much for your continued support.


	20. Home

Returning home after the incident with Snape pained Harry more than normal. It was as if every wound desperately trying to close up had been unceremoniously torn open. Severus was alive. He was sure Hermione and Ron struggled to believe it, but Draco had rushed off to immediately begin testing a theory. Draco was brilliant and often on their excursions across the world looking at dark magic, Draco had identified something far sooner than Harry. Running off after some unmentioned lead was a positive sign in Harry's opinion. Dark magic was strange business, Harry knew better than anyone. Hermione and Ron had not been exposed to enough dark magic to understand that if it could be imagined, it could be created.  _ No smarter bunch than dark wizards. Creative too.  _ Harry ran a tired hand over his face as he shut the door behind him.  _ Eleven fucking years.  _

Shucking off his robe and letting it fall in a mess on the floor, Harry walked over to the two wingback chairs. The broken teacup still sat in shards on the table and none of Snape’s books had been disturbed. The only change was the removal of the stain on the floor from where the teacup had undoubtedly spilled its contents. Draco had cleaned that up but Harry's wand aimed directly at his crotch kept him away from the shards of porcelain. Harry shook his head, it was the only evidence that Snape had existed, lived in that home. Harry shook the thought away. As had become his habit, he reached out his hand to feel the small current of residual magic in Snape’s chair.

Abruptly yanking his hand back, Harry stood mouth agape.

_ It’s gone _ .

Running around the house, Harry found that nothing else held the residual magic as it once had. He had always known that someday it would simply cease to exist but he assumed it was years off.  _ It can’t be. Is it because he’s alive again? Has the magic returned? Is that even how that magic works? _ Panic seized Harry’s chest as he stormed down the upstairs hallway. He found himself outside the dark wooden door to Snape’s bedroom, frozen with fear. He didn’t want to lose Snape again, especially not after finally finding him. Pushing the door open with a creak and padding over to the robe, he licked his lips. A shot of pain raced up his arm as his fingertips met the soft fabric. There was none of Snape left inside the house. 

_ It’s all gone. He’s gone. _

Trembling, he sat down and scribbled a note for Hermione and Draco as he began to sniffle. Hermione’s was curt, asking for information but Draco’s was longer.

_ Draco, _

_ Something is wrong. Snape’s residual magic is gone. I had thought there was at least another ten years left based on its rate of decay. I think it’s gone back to him wherever he is. Stupid, maybe. But it’s the only thing I can think of. Just want him alive. I think he is. And I think you think so too. _

_ Tell me you’ve figured out where he is. I know you have a hunch, Dragon. And please, I know Lucius is out of the country for the next month on a hunt for more Death Eaters (what a farce) but stay out of the Manor. He’ll know. Don’t be stupid enough to think  _ **_that_ ** _ plan would work. He’d never believe you’d change back to their side. Please, one spy was bad enough with Snape.  _

_ Harry _

“There you go, off you go. No,  _ no _ . You’ll get your treat when you come back.” 

Snape’s regal barn owl took off into the evening light. Dusk flooded Harry’s eyes with the dim realization that he had let the afternoon slip away.  _ Only Snape would have an owl that insists on upfront payment. Merlin, I’m exhausted.  _ He cleared his throat, suddenly agitated by a tickle.  _ Maybe I’ll just take a lie down.  _

Harry crawled up to his own bed. Grabbing his lion, he snuggled beneath the honey gold covers and pulled the weighted scarlet duvet over him. Moaning through a yawn, Harry languidly stretched before curling up in a small ball. He wondered if he would ever learn to sleep stretched out or if that was something beyond his grasp. Shaking his head with another yawn, he curled up even more tightly, the chill seeping in from the window nearest the bed. Casting a haphazard glance above him, he could see the delicate snow tumbling down and melting against the glass. 

Raising his hand to the glass, he felt icy air lifting off it.  _ Cold night.  _ He closed his eyes slowly before bolting upright in bed.  _ Cold? But the wards. They keep the house and the plants controlled. There shouldn’t be any damn draft. Not unless…  _

“Bloody hell,” Harry groaned. Stepping out of bed, he cast a warming charm on himself before slipping his shoes and a cloak on and heading outside to check the perimeter. 

The cold air trailed down his neck. He shivered violently as he tugged the warm cloak around his shoulders. Traipsing through a delicate layer of snow, Harry cast various diagnostic spells until he reached the small grove of plants Severus used for rare potions. Sure enough, snow was beginning to accumulate on their leaves and buds. Harry cursed before erecting wards of his own making around them. A faint gold light trickled out of the tip of his wand before settling like dust across the flowers and leaves. They stood upright, any wilting gone, and the snow fell away.

_ There. At least they’ll be safe. Can’t imagine Snape’s face if he saw his plants dead.  _ Harry idly looked down at one particular red plant with gold flakes floating around it.  _ Some of these cost a hundred galleons a seed. _

Harry sighed. He had never been so exhausted before, not even when he was being starved and forced to do manual labor. Turning his wand on himself, he saw his magical stores were lower than normal but chalked it up to a magically stressful day. He had, after all, practically destroyed the entire pub with his uncontrolled outburst. _Not my finest moment,_ he thought, rubbing the back of his neck. _Ron was right. Bloody lucky that guy thought it was just a cursed object. Suppose being the boy-who-lived probably helped a little too. See, Snape? Fame has its perks._

A loud sneeze disrupted the quiet of the winter. Quietly hoping he wasn’t catching a cold, Harry cast a few extra charms across the garden to ensure any prying eyes couldn’t find it if they happened to stumble onto the property. Erecting an entirely new set of wards as strong as the original one was well out of Harry’s grasp. The perimeter wards had fallen but those surrounding the house remained well enough. But he couldn’t leave the garden unprotected. In his time at the cottage, Harry had grown quite fond of the little patch of land and even added several rare plants of his own. Most days, the gentle nurturing of the magical life gave him some strange comfort as though he belonged right here, tending to the plants and the potions and waiting for Severus to return.

_ Must’ve known he’d come back. _ Harry shifted from one foot to the other, remembering the past eleven years. He knew he’d get Severus back, dead or alive. Though, up until today, he hadn't planned on rescuing Snape alive. He only intended to find his body, some part of him. Lucius had left nothing for Harry to find. He shook the thought from his head with another sneeze.

With an agitated groan, Harry shuffled back to the cottage where the wards remained strong enough to keep wizards out but not the elements. A deep unease settled on Harry’s shoulders as he stood on the front step.

This place wasn’t as protected now. Any death eater could saunter onto the grounds and set to work dismantling the wards surrounding the house. Even if it was extensive, old dark magic it wouldn’t hold forever, especially if Lucius were to appear. And still, as Harry surveyed the trees hugging the home, he couldn’t help but think of his Patronus dancing alongside Snape’s. There was something bigger than wards and conventional magic at play, he could feel it. He was still safe, safe enough at the very least.

Grumping as he walked back into the cozy living study area, Harry plopped onto the couch. Summoning a quill, he quickly scratched another letter to Draco.

_ Draco, _

_ Wards are acting up. Come on by to fix them. You know I’m rubbish at it. _

_ Harry _

Realizing he’d sent off Snape’s owl once already and with two letters at that, he placed the paper on the coffee table and swore he would take care of it in the morning. The paper seemed to glare at him. 

“I will. Don't fancy living in a house without strong double wards.” 

The exhaustion caused Harry to sag. Standing with a groan, Harry slowly began shuffling towards the staircase. As he approached it, he cast a cautious glance towards the front door as he always did. The small latch keeping it locked hung loosely. Cursing quietly to himself, Harry turned towards the door, slightly annoyed that he had walked into his home without locking the door behind him. What would Moody say about this? Vigilant as he normally was, this evening Harry couldn’t deny that he was being airheaded and thick-skulled. He was too stubbornly focused on sleep to be vigilant.

Halfway to the door, the world blurred. Spinning from side to side and swirling around him, Harry’s arm shot out to stop himself from hitting the floor. Instead of catching anything to steady him, his hand slipped across the smooth glass surface of a mirror. Disrupting the mirror as he fell, it swung wildly while Harry hit the floor. Rolling onto his back, fighting the vertigo making the world an ocean, Harry looked up to see the mirror careening towards him. He caught it with a small hiss, nicking one of his fingers in the process.

Holding it tight to his chest for a moment, Harry closed his eyes. The terrible dizziness remained.  _ I’ll stay here just a minute. Just a second. Once this passes, I’ll go to bed. After I lock the bloody door. Don’t think Snape would appreciate it if I died falling down the stairs the day I found him again. _

Sighing roughly, he propped the mirror up against the wall and wooden floor, ignoring the pain blossoming in his wrists and knees from the fall. Turning his head to the side, he looked at his reflection, a shocked "o" forming on his lips. 

Rings circled his eyes and blood vessels drew intricate maps across the vast whites of his eyes. Blood nestled in the crevices of the round frames circling his eyes and the green they covered had dimmed. Streaks of gray covered the long, layered hair. He blinked slowly.  _ Haven’t had my hair this long since I was a fourth-year.  _ It was a scraggly mess on top of his head but it looked more like him, less like his father. Something about that brought him comfort. Harry wanted to be just Harry, simple Harry. 

Another tired sigh puffed out of his cracked lips.  _ Gotta stop biting them.  _ His eyes fell to a cap from a bottle of firewhiskey lazily discarded on the floor. He supposed the bottle was somewhere else in the house, most likely the potions lab where he sat and cried after brewing a replacement for a potion gone bad. Another sign Snape was gone.

_ Maybe Hermione was right. I do look bloody awful. Gods, the students must be terrified of me. And Draco’s been on me forever about pulling myself together. Keeps saying I need a proper house-elf to keep me in check.  _ Harry huffed.  _ Well, with how he hovers he does just fine I guess.  _

As Harry lay and stared at the sorry state of his reflection, he thought back on everything. Draco had been keeping the fridge stocked when Harry couldn’t be bothered to go out. Draco would clean the cobwebs, banish the stains gathering on the floor, and cleaned the entire house every week Harry forgot. Since Severus had died, Harry had effectively stopped living. He spent time at Hogwarts, lived in the dungeons where Minerva and Draco both kept a close eye on him, occasionally poking him into eating more. Even Hermione and Ron’s constant nagging and expectancy of owls had kept him pieced together. 

_ Merlin, what’s happened to me? I know I loved him but this...this isn’t right. _ A nasty ache began to boil in his core as the dizziness increased.  _ Why does it have to hurt so bad without him? _

A wave of fatigue crashed over him. Helpless to the pull, Harry closed his eyes and slipped into a fitful sleep, squeezing his ring as he slipped away from reality.

********************************

The harsh light of the morning didn’t breach Harry’s eyes. As he struggled to open his eyes, he only got glimpses of pitch black. When he was finally able to wrench his eyes open, the cottage was covered in darkness. Blinking several times as his eyes failed to adjust, Harry groaned. The fluffy outline of Snape's bird cleared as he desperately tried to focus his gaze. Giving up with a thump of his head, he closed his eyes. The angry hooting of the regal owl was interrupted only by its aggressive pecks on his feet. Residual sleep fogged his mind. He wanted to shoo that damn owl away, get it to stop pecking his poor toes but he found himself too ensnared in the web of sleep to do much of anything about it. 

_ I’ll deal with it in the morning. Maybe just a few more hours of sleep. _

Still, Harry  _ wanted _ to wake. He wanted to stand up and go about his business. The owl had returned, no doubt with another letter for him that he knew he ought to read right away. His stomach growled loudly and Harry thought about how delicious some stew would be given the cold of the home. Suddenly aware of the frigid floor beneath him, Harry thought to force himself up but found that he couldn’t. Slipping further into the deep slumber holding him, Harry vaguely heard someone calling his name.

_ Did Draco get in? Hope it isn’t a Death Eater.  _ He huffed to himself, the web of sleep winding tightly around him and dulling his sense of danger.  _ That’d be funny. Find me sleeping on the floor. The Chosen One killed sleeping on the floor. What a joke.  _

Dreams began to take hold but that voice was still yelling. In the front of his mind, he could see Severus, wand-raised and a bitter expression of anger contorting his features as he yelled. “Harry. Harry! For Merlin’s sake  _ wake up _ .”

This time, Harry did. Green eyes snapping open, Harry looked over to the mirror. There was Severus, hands on each side of the dim glass, illuminated by some ethereal glow off in the distance. The face was tight with concern, the eyes darker than normal as they peered through the looking glass. 

“Severus.”

The hands lowered back by Snape’s side as he took a visibly deep breath. “You  _ brat _ . What in Merlin’s name are you doing  _ on the floor _ ?” There was a familiar bite of concern in those words and Harry smiled, beginning to rest his eyes. “Harry!” Snape barked, jerking Harry back awake. “You are hopeless. Tend to that owl.”

“But-”

“Tend to it.”

_ Git wastes no time. No “hello, how are you?” No “I missed you, Harry”. Only “Tend to the damn owl.”  _ Harry continued grumbling to himself as he motioned for the owl to come over. It waited patiently as he righted himself. The world spun slightly as he came upright but quickly settled down. Tucking his stiff legs beneath him, his knees cracked and he stretched his neck. The floor had done him no favors.

“The  _ owl _ .”

“I know, Snape. Fuck.” He rubbed the back of his as he attempted to stretch his back out.  _ What possessed me to think this was fine? I can hardly move. _

“Come here, come on.” The owl hopped closer, presenting its leg with the note attached. “Good girl. I’ll read this and-ow!” A harsh nip broke the skin on Harry’s finger. “You little-”

“Harry,” Snape warned.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “All right, Snape. I get it. I’ll get her a treat, but you’re coming with me.” 

Picking up the mirror, Harry stomped off to the kitchen to grab a treat for the owl before setting the mirror into Snape’s armchair. Collapsing into his own after tugging it slightly closer, Harry laughed. This was certainly not how he had imagined getting Snape back home.

“Is there something humorous?”

The anger in Snape’s voice surprised Harry. Gathering his composure, Harry sighed. “No, just didn’t expect to get you back here this way.”

A black eyebrow quirked. “You expected to get me back?”

Harry paled.  _ No. Not now. I can’t tell him now. He’s alive...it’s pointless. It’ll just ruin it. It’ll ruin… No. Maybe someday but not today. _

Growling, Harry said, “Gryffindor optimism.”

“Is that so?” Severus knew he was lying, his voice was smooth, calculated, and the eyes were pinning Harry to his seat. He knew Harry too well. Seeing the lie was not only his specialty but uncovering the reasons behind it happened to be his happy hobby. Harry had never known Severus to overlook anything. He always found out. But things had changed in the past eleven years. Harry was a cool liar, finally able to mask the emotions playing on his face. Flashes of what he’d done, the journeys he had been on, and glimpses of blown cauldrons raised something ugly inside Harry. Familiar rage coiled in his belly. This anger had once existed only in far-off nightmares, terrible dreams where he saw himself becoming the Dark Lord. And now, it slept in his belly, eager to wake.

“Isn’t anyone’s bloody business anyway.” The snarl surprised Severus, both eyebrows twitching before settling. 

“Do you know what day it is?”

Harry scoffed. “Course I know what day it is. I just took a nap. It’s still bloody dark out so it’s still Saturday.”

“Check.”

“Snape I’m not-”

“You  _ will _ do as you are told.”

“I’m not a fucking kid. You can’t just-”

“I can. Check the day you imbecile.”

Snape's voice left no room for question, but the rage in Harry's belly burst through, coloring his face red and glinting in his eyes. Harry stared at the gift of his two patronuses dancing on the mantle of the large fireplace as he barked at Snape. “No. You’ve always thought you’re so much better than me. Smarter, more able, just  _ better. _ You always thought you could run circles around me, figure everything out. Think you're so bloody smart and capable. _Always_ thought you were better than me. Well, you aren’t now. You’re just some stupid-”

Snape’s voice was low, lower than Harry had ever heard, snapping his eyes back to the mirror where the harsh, angular features were so near to the glass Harry thought he could reach through and touch him. Shadows covered Severus’s eyes but Harry could see the twinkle of fury in there as he spoke.

“I do not know what has possessed you to behave this way but I do not have the luxury of waiting to understand you at the moment. Lucius has been gone long enough that the spell has weakened to allow me to see you, to remember what happened. And I  _ saw _ that you were unconscious on the bloody floor for well over a day after you squeezed that damn ring. I for one do not have time to sit and bicker with you, Harry. Check. The. Time.”

Harry’s expression fell. What had he been doing? Bickering with Severus rarely happened and he should have been ecstatic to see the man again. Harry laid a hand on his thigh as he looked at Snape's aggressive posture. He still pressed near to the glass as if he would burst through at any moment and shake the stupid out of Harry.

"I...I'm sorry." 

"The time, Harry."

Waving his hand, he expected to be notified of the time but instead, nothing happened. He waved his arm again, prepared for the wordless and wandless spell to work as it always had. It did not. Raising his arm with a grunt he said, “Accio Harry’s watch.” It too disobeyed. Finally pulling his wand out of his pocket he repeated the simultaneously pleased and disheartened as the watch slowly bobbed over to him.

_ Oh gods, it’s not Saturday at all. It’s...it’s… _

“Tuesday night.”

Snape hissed.

“Snape, I… What happened to me?” Harry placed his head in his hands. “I was asleep for days. Days! I’m angry and I can’t perform magic right. I...I… Merlin, I’m losing it. Fuck! Draco’s letter.” Harry fumbled through his pockets looking for the note. 

_ Potty, _

_ You were right, I shouldn’t have gone back. I’m sure now though, Snape’s at the Manor. Magic came back but it's because of Lucius, he took it out of the wards when we saw Severus. One of his notorious failsafes. Snooped around enough to set off some traps so Lucius is returning early. I’ll get to Grimmauld. Something is very wrong. The Manor is crawling with Death Eaters, happy ones at that. Watch yourself, you idiot, if they haven’t made a move for you already, they will soon. I’ll see to Snape, don’t worry about me. I’ll figure it out. Still have some of that old Malfoy charm left.  _

_ And for the love of Merlin,  _ **_don’t_ ** _ owl me again. Lucius has eyes everywhere, Ministry included. Watch yourself so I don’t have to pick up pieces of Potter. _

_ Draco _

“Well?” Snape barked.

“Draco went to the Manor.”

“He is Lucius’s child after all. Arrogant idiot.”

“Never thinks it’ll be him.” Harry shook his head, looking at the note still in his hands. He folded it carefully and put it away. “This must be it then. The pass at my life.” 

Harry looked up and there was Snape’s face, casually listening to everything Harry said. Harry felt a wire in his heart snap. It had been eleven years and here he was, sitting in Severus’s cottage with a poor excuse for his friend, his confidant, his lover propped up in a chair. And still, it was Severus. The same fiery compassion in those eyes twinkled just for Harry. His hair had hardly grown. The dark eyes were still impossibly deep and focused on Harry just as he had once dreamt. The chocolatey voice rumbled through the home. Harry sniffled.

_ And I’m just going about business as usual. Snapping at him, trying to find the heart of Lucius’s damned Death Eaters. Thinking about what’s a room over in the potions lab. Dammit!  _ Harry clenched his free hand into a fist, ignorant to Snape’s wandering eye and worried brow.  _ He’s going to leave and I can’t stop him. I’ve done  _ **_nothing_ ** _ these last eleven years. I can’t even look at him now. Merlin, it hurts. It hurts so bad. _ Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry furiously rubbed his eyes with one hand in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.

“It has been a while.”

Harry nodded. The light patter of tears to his jeans was interrupted by his frustrated shout. He didn’t want to be this way, teary-eyed and full of despair. This wasn’t the Harry Severus had known. But the years had taken their toll. He was no longer a brazen Gryffindor standing to fight the world.

“I’m twenty-seven.”

“So you’ve mentioned.”

“I know, I know you want to talk about what’s happening to me. I’m sure that beautiful head is full of theories but I don’t care. I don’t want to talk about that.” He rested his chin on his thumbs, letting his steepled fingers press lightly into his brow bone. “I know you loved me, Severus. You saved me. What a worthless life you saved.” Harry held up a hand, knowing already Snape would jump in and fight him. “I’m sorry. I can’t talk about them. The Death Eaters, the Malfoys, all of them. I can’t.

“I’ve spent so long fighting them, protecting the entire Wizarding World just me and Draco. And I’m so tired. Please, I know… I know there isn’t much time for us. Will you please just...talk?”

“Harry.” His name cracked on Snape’s lips, breaking with a million things unsaid. Harry stared deep into those eyes, feeling a profound loss. The glass held them apart, kept their thoughts locked away from one another. Snape’s lips pulled tight and Harry swallowed.  _ Always did that when he was around Dumbledore. He’s scared, sad. I don’t know. Fuck, if I just could… if there wasn’t this glass.  _ “What a terrible burden you’ve carried.” 

“It hasn’t been-”

Snape scoffed. “Honestly, must you interrupt me after expressing your wish I speak? You impatient brat.”

Harry smiled. The smile quickly turned into a laugh. It had been years, since Snape had died, that Harry had laughed like that. The muscles felt weak, the lines in his face crinkling in a way which they were unfamiliar. Behind his laughter sat the quiet, near giggle of Snape chuckling along at the sight. Through teary eyes, he could see the crooked grin as the features on the harsh face softened. He laughed until he could not pull in any more air and then laughed some more.

“I’m sorry, oh Merlin. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Harry continued laughing, albeit a bit more quietly. “Severus, oh Merlin. I missed you.”

“And I you, Harry.”

“Have you...have you been aware?”

Severus recoiled. “So you have begun to use that brain.” The dark eyes held Harry’s gaze, something terribly sad in them. “I have had moments. It is difficult to remember them all.”

“Must have been dark magic then. Most involve some level of memory wipe if you're under the influence.” Harry licked his lips.

“You don’t seem terribly impressed that I am not dead.”

Harry laughed lightly at the joke. “You dead? Never.” Harry’s eyes flicked up to the gift he’d given Snape.  _ No, I wasn’t going to kill another person I loved.  _ “I think I remember giving you some of my Harry Potter luck.”

“Ah yes. It must be a requirement then that the world cannot be rid of you.”

“Nor you. Not with that luck.”

Snape snorted. “Is that so?”

“Well, I  _ am _ the savior of the wizarding world to these idiots so yeah. Something like that.”

“They never discovered what happened.”

“Didn’t tell them. If I had…” Harry raked a hand through his hair. “Lucius has been a real problem. And Dumbledore wasn’t put in Azkaban until after my final year. That took some doing. I couldn’t very well let everyone in the Ministry know what happened. They still don't believe that he was involved. I was missing the important memories after all. Yours. But that reminds me, you were awarded an Order of Merlin, First Class.”

Snape’s face twitched, the eyes opening slightly. “Harry, how on Earth did you manage that?”

“So sure it was me?” Snape rolled his eyes. “All right, all right. I shared my memories with them on a trial I asked to be set up for you, with conditions of course. I just obliviated them afterward. It’s fine. It was the agreement. You know, I didn’t tell them because I couldn’t. If I thought I could let everyone know what you did without endangering myself and Draco, I would. Until Dumbeldore and Lucius are dead or you came back, I didn’t plan on telling anyone. Had some replicated memories in my drawer though, you know, in case I died.”

“You talk too casually of death.”

Harry swallowed thickly, looking down at his socked feet. “Well, you know. Times change.”

Snape paused. “You have another scar.”

Harry’s hand instinctively went to cover the ugly white scar cutting down from the hollow of his throat.  _ He’s too astute. Bugger fucking sees everything. Can’t hide a damn thing from those eyes.  _ A smaller voice supplied,  _ Would you want to? _

“Times change.” Harry removed his hand before Snape could get a good look at the scar cutting straight through the lines on his hand reading “I must not tell lies”. 

“And men do not?”

Harry shivered.  _ Leave it to Severus to see right through it. I’ve changed so much. Time has marched on and I’m a different person. Would he even want me when I save him? I’ve... I’ve done so much in the last decade. Hurt people, killed the people desperately trying to revive the Dark Lord. I’m as bad as he was. I’ve- _

“I don’t think you’ve changed, Harry.”

“You wouldn’t know.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Harry’s eyes snapped up. “Harry, I’ve seen. It has been sparse but enough to piece together a bit of your story though you know very little of mine. Lucius disapparated me back to Malfoy Manor that night and set to work healing me though I had died. Lovely bit of rest that was.”

“Wasn’t a fan.” Harry could feel himself tightening. While he could understand how Severus probably was finally at peace, he couldn’t understand joking about something like that.

“Let me finish. The Healer was constantly dragging me back and forth between the living and dead. It was agony but I woke to…” Severus cleared his throat. “I don’t remember much from waking. It seems as though the memories have been-”

“Tampered with?”

“Precisely.”

Mumbling to himself he said, “I should have seen that immediately. Of fucking course! Should have remembered from that expedition to Southern France. Draco must have. Severus…”

“Including me in your own conversation now?”

“Do you remember if the spell sounded something like Capti Vitrum?”

Snape paled. “Yes.”

“Such an easy spell, honestly. But wicked hard to counter because unless you know the exact mirror and have someone on the outside who also knows the exact mirror, you’re screwed. And it's generally a two-person job to get around the rebounding spell. But if Draco knows where you are at the Manor, he should be fine as long as he expects the rebound and puts something up to block. If he weren’t so adverse to the Imperius he could use that on Lucius and the curse could be swapped pretty harmlessly. In France-” Harry stopped suddenly, realizing he was about to divulge information he didn’t yet want to share.

“It’s dark magic.”

Harry looked into the obsidian eyes. They didn’t trust him. “Yeah.” His voice was hoarse and his throat was dry.

“Are you suggesting Draco use the Imperius to coerce Lucius into caging himself in a mirror? A fate similar to mine. You are putting a man on the butcher block.”

The panic wedging a knot into his throat fled as he opened his mouth to lie. “I thought you were interested in hearing all options.”

“Is that so?”

“Course. Why would I advocate the use of an unforgivable?”  _ Because they’re bloody effective and I’ve used them too many times.  _

“An interesting question, indeed. What would an Auror need with dark magic?”

“Auror? Bloody hell, I never followed through on that. I’ve got the D.A.D.A position.” He huffed. “And I tutor in potions when Draco’s had enough.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m a Potions and Defense Master.”

Severus was very still for a moment before erupting into wild laughter. He clutched at his sides as he leaned against one black wall for support as he guffawed. The black hair swayed forward, covering the crooked smile and hidden dimples. Snape threw his head back as he braced against the wall. Harry smiled fondly, a warmth covering his heart that he had not felt in years. Severus continued laughing for several minutes, gradually calming down as he reapproached the mirror.

“Harry, oh Harry.” Snape continued to laugh before pulling himself back together. “In all my years of teaching and spying, I have never had such a shock.” He shook his head, brushing back his hair with his hands. “Congratulations. It is no small feat to master two subjects. It is a larger feat that you have surprised me.”

“I’m Harry Potter. You should know to expect the unexpected. Besides, you have two. Legilimency and Occlumency, and Potions.”

“Yes well, I was never rubbish at them.”

“Is that how we’re playing it today?”

Severus paused, his face suddenly grave. “No. No, you must write a letter to Minerva. You are feeling ill, aren’t you?”

“Not feeling great.” Severus furrowed his brow. “What is it?”

“I cannot remember. I am certain Lucius or Narcissa told me something, something vital but I cannot remember.” 

Harry hummed something non-committal as he sketched a quick note to Minerva. “I’m surprised she hasn’t stormed in yet.”

“Surely you have Draco to thank.”

Harry grumbled as he wrote out a feeble apology to McGonagall. Severus continued muttering about one thing or the other, earning several smiles from Harry as he glanced up from the parchment. It felt right and Harry’s heart swelled. It had been ages since he had listened to the steady hum of Snape’s voice while he concentrated on appeasing some professor for Hogwarts. For a moment, he could pretend that Severus was there, puttering around cleaning up and mumbling about Harry’s mess or sitting in the chair watching him work. He could pretend it was normal. 

_ Don’t even feel sick now that he’s here. Draco did mention something about magical depression. Maybe that would explain the depleting magic. Whenever that idiot gets to Grimmauld, I’ll find a way to ask. _

Harry sent off the owl with a treat in advance this time as he zoned back into the conversation.

“Your hair has not been this long since that blasted tri-wizard tournament.”

“Don’t like it?”

The pale cheeks pinked slightly. “I did not like that tournament.”

Harry remembered the billowing cloak as Snape ran, the first time Harry had seen it, over to his side.  _ He was so scared, even through the pain I could tell. He was so scared I had died. _

“I don’t have very fond memories either. But the hair?”

“Your hair is unruly as it always has been.”

“Well, I couldn’t very well go and trim it. You’d never recognize me!”

“No, I suppose I wouldn’t.”

Harry yawned. Leaning back into the chair, he looked through lidded eyes at Snape. 

Snape said, “Are you already fatigued?”

“Yeah. I’m so tired.”

“You’ve slept for three bloody days!”

“Accio nutrition potion.” Harry uncorked the small glass phial as Snape began bickering about Harry’s health. “I know, I know. Can’t live off ‘em. But I can have one, right?”

“How frequently have you done this?”

Harry felt his neck go hot in shame. “A bit.”

“Take me upstairs.”

“What?”

Snape paused. “If you would like, I will read to you. Presuming you have not grown out of-”

“Severus, I...yes.” Harry snatched up the mirror and quickly jumped up the stairs to his room. Gracefully turning the mirror face down, Harry slipped into his pajamas before slipping beneath the sheets. It took some time, enough to agitate Snape and Harry both as he struggled to prop Snape up nearby on the nightstand. Finally having propped him up, Harry scootched to the very edge of the bed and blinked slowly.

“I’m so tired, Severus.”

“I know. I know, Harry. You have lived a very hard life. I am sorry I couldn’t be there.”

“No, no it helps to know you kinda were. Watching, I guess.”

There was a beat of silence. “It was never my intention to abandon you in that fashion. I was selfish.”

Harry smiled, hugging his lion closer. “I’m glad you were, you know. It’s okay to take what you want sometimes.” He rolled his lips together, remembering the soft pink of Snape’s pressed beneath his own. “I didn’t mind. It was nice. So many days I’ve thought about it. About you.” 

It was easy to confess like this. There was no pressure, no threat of argument. Harry could let the tired truths slip off his lips and flow into the night without worry. The years had worn on him in many ways and Harry discovered that he could never quite release the words in his heart. They belonged to someone gone, vanished without a trace, but that person was back and the words felt like Felix Felicis flowing over his lips.

“I’d be scared, in the middle of some fight or stabbed and bleeding and then you’d be there. In my head, whispering to me. Telling me things I’ve never heard you say with the same passion I heard that night. Hear you tell me you loved me over and over. So many times.” He whimpered slightly. “And I’d wake up again, you know? I’d be back in the world. Fighting. Not dying.”

Harry sighed, snuggling deeper into the bed. “I love you, Severus.”

A vast silence stretched between them. Harry could feel the anguish leaking from the mirror but within that anguish was the same passionate love reflected. Snape’s voice was thick with sorrow as he said, “Harry, I will make this right. I’m unsure how, but I will make this right.”

“Don’t worry about it right now. Lucius will be back soon enough.”

“Yes.”

“And I won’t have you again.”

“You will not.”

“But I have you now. So, read to me?”

He could hear the whistle of air through Severus’s nostrils. “I do believe we were discussing the history of the founders, Salazar Slytherin perhaps.” Harry hummed in agreement.

“As I’m sure your impeccable memory recalls, when Salazar Slytherin joined…”

Harry focused on the rich tones of the voice he had missed for so many years. The exhaustion biting at his bones seemed to abide as for a moment, a brief and delicious moment, Harry had Severus all to himself. The world was not so bleak. The sound of Snape’s ringing laughter still clung to the air of the home and the earthy tenor of his voice rolled over Harry like the pleasant warmth of firewhiskey. If he focused in, he could even make out the smile quirking Snape’s lips up into a smile. Hazarding a brief glance, Harry peeked his eyes open to see those dark eyes alive with the fire of love.  _ It’ll be all right, won’t it? I know it will.  _ Harry leaned into the sleep biting at his edges. The voice permeated Harry’s mind and he swore he could feel the looming presence of Severus sitting feet away as he spoke. Harry smiled as he drifted off.  _ Severus, you’re home.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, I know it's been hard lately with this fic but I'm so grateful to those of you who are sticking with it. I'm well into writing the next book, in case you were curious. Anyway, hope you liked this chapter. Our boys got a little bit of a break, even if they were still apart they both had happiness for a little bit :)


	21. Soul Mates

“S’vrus?” Harry blinked blearily as he began to wake. The world was blanketed in the early light of morning. “Sev-” Harry cut himself off with a groan.

His mouth was dry, his throat hoarse as he coughed. Lying on his side, as he woke Harry moaned as a chill raced down his back and shook his aching muscles. He felt as though he had been hit by an angry troll. Casting a sad glance towards the mirror, Harry whimpered. Wrapping his arms around his middle he closed his eyes, remembering the warm laugh of his Severus filling the home. It clung to the air, draped across Harry’s mop of wild hair with a gentleness he couldn’t imagine. 

_ It’s real. He was here. _ Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he threw off the covers and stood. Holding the mirror in his hands for a moment, he passed a loving thumb over the edge of the glass.  _ Lucius is back, then. I hope Draco made it to Grimmauld. Severus, are you in there? Watching me?  _ He set the mirror back down, squeezing his ring absently as he padded out of the room and down the stairs.  _ Will you remember this? Or will it be lost too?  _ Harry sighed, snapping his fingers and starting the coffee brewing in the french press. The twinkle of a small, ornate mirror caught his eye. He didn’t turn his head.

_ You’re watching aren’t you, Severus? Suffering alongside me. Watching.  _ His hands fell to the counter as he braced himself.  _ How long has it been this way? Gods, the things you’ve probably watched me do. I thought you were dead. Dead! And now, you’re alive. Fucking trapped and at Lucius’s mercy. _ Harry ran a hand down his face.  _ He’s the worst with torture. I know firsthand. Followed his bloody footsteps all through Europe as he took more and more control of the wizarding world. No one fucking survived. Not a one.  _

_ Draco best have gotten out of there. Even so, Grimmauld might not be safe enough for him. Kreacher is a good house-elf but I don’t think Lucius would hesitate to kill him. So help me, Draco if you tried something stupid I'll kill you. _

Harry looked into the lion with the lopsided grin and misshapen face as he poured himself a cup of strong black coffee. Steam coiled up from the red cup clutched between his pale hands. Leaning against the counter, Harry looked down at his hands. Once they had been golden, the color of honey and strong. Now they were edging on ghostly and held a distinct tremor.

_ I really am sick, huh? Starting to get as pale as Snape. Some flu. _

A shiver wiggled his shoulders as he cast a weak heating charm on himself. Looking over to the window overlooking the garden, Harry saw a stack of letters sitting on the windowsill and a very angry little owl pecking at the glass. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Here.”

Opening the window, the owl flew in with a dusting of snow fluttering in behind her, demanding to be given something for her exemplary effort. Snatching the thick stack of papers, Harry winced upon reading the neat handwriting. It wasn’t just Hermione’s owl that had visited him. He had guilt too. He had nine letters from the witch. Before sitting down to read them all, Harry rifled through a bin of treats handing the small owl the largest one she could hold.

“Wait here. I’ll write something quick to Hermione.”

Without even opening the rest of his letters, he quickly scratched an apology to Hermione explaining that he had been feeling unwell recently. Looking at his note with a scowl, he only hoped that it would be enough to keep her off his case for a while.  _ Don’t know how I missed all these letters.  _

“Must be some cold.” Handing a little letter to the owl with a second treat he said, “There you go. Tell your owner not to worry so much.” 

The owl fluttered off with a reproachful hoot as if to say, “Don’t make her worry, then.”

Harry shook his head before opening up the letter on top. 

_ Harry, _

_ I’m so sorry about what’s happened to you over the years. If Ron or I said anything, we’re sorry. Draco has made it plenty clear to us that we may have been...oh we've been awful! I'm so sorry Harry. We love you so very much.  _

_ In case you haven’t received my other owls, the mirror only had a small spell on it, which I’ve included on the second piece of paper behind this one. It's a simple spell, nothing a first year at Hogwarts couldn't handle. All I can gather is that Snape has to be in reality for the mirror to have shown him like that and I don't think it has to do with the spell. He’s alive Harry. I can promise you that. _

_ Please let me know you’re all right. Even if you don’t want to speak to me again, I’ll understand. Just let me know, Harry. It’s been too many days. If I don’t receive a letter tonight, I’m flooing in. Don’t think I won’t, even Draco agrees with me this time. _

_ Hermione _

“Thanks for nothing, I guess.”

Tossing it onto the counter, Harry rubbed a hand down his face. His skin was warm even though he was shivering. He rolled his eyes. A wizard’s flu it was. The warm coffee raced down his throat. Harry relished the calm it brought him. Even after all these years, he associated the taste of coffee with Snape’s lips, the curious tongue. He snorted. It was a blessing he had forgotten the tang of Snape’s blood. He swallowed another sip of the black coffee, finishing off the cup. It landed against the counter with a soft clank. Empty. 

As he approached the fridge a terrible nausea overtook him. His hands flew to his stomach as he doubled over, smacking roughly into the counter for support. Eyes clenched shut, Harry ground out a pained “fuck” as he began to cough. The pain in his stomach suddenly traveled, exploding in his head and making his legs weak as if he’d been hit with a jelly legs curse. His knees gave out suddenly and he crashed against the white tiles of the kitchen. His green eyes reflected in the ghostly tile and all at once, Harry thought he was dying.

“No,” Harry moaned, the “o” stretching long and low through his pain. _He c_ _ an’t see me. ‘M in the one spot in the damned house he can’t see. Gods, gonna die without him even- _

Harry’s thoughts left him as a hoarse shout cracked through the quiet morning. Pain, familiar and new at the same time, swallowed him whole. His body swarmed with wasps, stinging every available surface and his mind had been dipped in acid. Harry screamed again, low and guttural as he felt himself being sheared in half. A blink of unconsciousness silenced him but his eyes were open again as blood trickled from his scar. He dimly felt the warm liquid pool beneath where his forehead lay slightly pressed against the kitchen floor. 

Another stretch of darkness took him, this one longer, and when Harry woke he gasped for air. The world cramped around him, breathing down his neck in gross anticipation of the coming moments. The pain pulled him into a tight ball as his cheek pressed more firmly into the grout as he writhed on the floor. As if outside himself, Harry could hear himself whimpering, fingernails scrabbling at the floor as wave after wave of pain commanded his senses. He could see how the hair was stuck in the sides of his glasses while the rest spread out like a sick collage against the ivory tiles. Winter air from the open window brushed over his neck. Unaware of his own actions, Harry desperately squeezed at the ring hoping he could be saved again.

Cool terror washed over him as he felt himself being tugged further and further away from the homey cottage. He could practically feel Severus, though he knew it was impossible. No, that wasn’t right. He could  _ hear _ Severus shouting, screaming, pounding against something and screaming Harry’s name over and over with some other muffled plea. Snape’s pain was palpable but all Harry felt was a twisted sense of glee.

Harry shouted as a lance of pain rocketed through his scar. And then, as though ice had been dropped down his back, Harry was within himself, a terrible realization pulsing under his scar.

_ He’s back. Voldemort is back. Oh gods, and Lucius has brought him to see Severus. No. No, no, no. No! Severus is there. Fuck! And Draco might not have gotten out either. _

The nauseating pain lanced through his head again as he was swirling, falling into Malfoy Manor. There on a wall larger than Harry could ever imagine, was Snape nestled among what must have been at least one hundred different mirrors though his was the largest and most ornate by far. 

His face opened in an earnest shout, teeth barred while his hands fisted and pounded against the glass as he screamed. The dark, wild hair framed his face as he lurched forward in a particularly gruesome-looking scream. The dark eyes were flashing, full of rage and humiliation as his mouth moved around Harry’s name, broken screams, and desperate pleas Harry couldn’t quite make out. The eyes were not on where Harry currently stood but on an empty kitchen no doubt. Severus didn't even seem to care about his wicked visitors. The pallor Harry was used to had been replaced by a ferocious red flush streaming down his tear-stained cheeks and blossoming on the chest where he had clearly ripped open several buttons of his robes. Spit flew from his mouth as he screamed, the tendons and veins bulging in his neck. Worst of all, Harry could feel Voldemort’s joy at watching Severus desperately try to save Harry.

Then, the lips curved around the words “I love you” and Harry was within himself again, hopeful clarity filling his eyes for the first time in eleven years.

_ No. I will not let him think he’s won. No. No! Severus, I will not let you die like this. I’ve got to save you. _

Staggering to his feet and knocking everything off the counter as he spilled forward, Harry didn’t even wince at the cacophony of glass and ceramic breaking around him. Yelling as he struggled to get to a piece of paper, Harry collapsed to the ground several more times. Bruises erupted on his knees. Old dishes and misplaced cups of week-old coffee exploded like fireworks behind him as he bumbled through to the study. The mirrors hung oppressively around him, a dismal reminder that he could not fail. Tipping the coffee table, Harry watched as the old fragments of Snape’s teacup fell to the ground. Scattered once more.

He eventually made his way to the parchment and quill though he was bleeding from several cuts and he was certain his right foot had porcelain splinters lodged in its heel.

_ Draco, _

_ The Dark Lord is back. Snape’s at the Manor with Lucius and the Dark Lord. Big mirror, biggest one there. Third row up. Metal, not wood, and ornate. Big “LM” carved on top. Help him.  _ Harry paused before blinking hard and writing,  _ And when you’re done, help me. I trust you, Dragon. _

_ Harry _

Frantically whistling, Harry hoped Snape’s finicky owl was within earshot to hear him from the floor of the sitting area. The great flap of wide wings was music to his ears.

“Go. Take this to Draco.”

The owl took it without hesitation and Harry collapsed into unconsciousness surrounded by the shattered remains of the home. 

*****************************************

The dark of night surrounded him when he finally woke. Pulling himself up from the floor, Harry blinked away the stars crowding his vision. It took him a great amount of effort but he was able to make his way to his feet with the help of his armchair. Keeping one hand on its back for support, Harry surveyed the house. The remains of every glass and plate were scattered across the kitchen and living area. As he craned his stiff neck, he could even see it glittering in the hallway. Every single cabinet door was open and Harry had the sinking feeling that it had been more than a pain-drunken stupor that caused so much chaos. His magic had, unsurprisingly, exploded around him again. And still, he felt remarkably triumphant that he was not dead.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he cursed as he put weight on his foot. 

Slipping into the armchair, he waved his hand to remove the shard of porcelain but found none obeyed.

“Oh, bloody fuck. Not this again.” 

Limping up the stairs to his wand, Harry cast a weak healing charm. With an unhappy scowl on his face, Harry stared down at the foot that was better but not anywhere close to healed. Mumbling to himself about his stupid cold, Harry changed into more appropriate clothing and vanished into the disheveled kitchen this time with thick boots protecting his feet. Picking his steps with great care, he made his way over to his sink in an attempt to brew himself a cup of milk and honey to soothe his throat which kept clamping down and forcing a coughing fit on him. 

His hands worked idly as he thought about what he hoped was the previous night. 

_ Got to stop waking up on the floor. Draco’ll have a fit. Not to mention ‘Mione. She means well.  _ Sadness cinched around his belly like a belt.  _ I should trust her more. Still love her just can’t seem to get my head out of my arse long enough not to be snippy. Gods, their faces when they found out what happened. _

Harry groaned. He let the thought die. Another more sinister one rose in its place.  _ Voldemort is back. _ He snatched his warm milk and honey and stomped off towards his chair. Plopping into the red wingback, he stared off at Snape’s, imagining having him here, scratching some biting remark on a terrible paper.  _ Fuck. Died for nothing. _ An angry voice in his head yelled,  _ Not dead, Harry. He isn’t dead. Just waiting for you to save him _ .

Talking to no one he said, “First I have to figure out what day it is and stop waking up on the bloody floor.”

A nasty headache began squeezing his temples and, despite his track record that week, he closed his eyes.  _ Just for a moment, _ he reassured himself. But at some point, Harry began to nod off. The crash of his cup to the floor startled him awake. 

Harry cursed as he realized his fever had gotten significantly worse and now he was battling the return of his dizziness. Worse, it seemed that his magic wasn’t forthcoming. Not even with the wand. 

Looking to the mirror hung over the fireplace he said, “You know what’s happening, don’t you? That’s why you’re so bloody upset, you git. Fuck.  _ Fuck _ .” Harry clapped a hand to his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this bad.” 

Giving into sleep once more, figuring a chair was at least marginally better than the floor, Harry fell victim to a strange set of nightmares. The world was disjointed, dripping strange colors and he kept waking up in strange places. In some of the nightmares, he was bent over the kitchen sink, violently vomiting, while in others he was seemingly paralyzed and staring off into space for hours on end no matter how desperately he tried to wake. The nightmares droned on. Finally, when he was dreaming about Nagini wrapping itself around his neck and suffocating him, he was startled awake by a loud bang.

Someone was trying to enter the house. Strangely, he heard a polite knock seconds after he woke gasping for air. The walls moved as he walked through the hallways towards the front door which he thought never usually wiggled the way it was.

“Coming,” he rasped out.

When he opened the door to Hermione, Ron, and Minerva his eyebrows furrowed.

“Minerva?” Harry looked around fatigue forcing him to sag against the doorframe. “Ron, ‘Mione, what’s up?” Hermione’s eyes widened in a typical expression of worry. “Oh, did you not get my owl? I wrote to let you know I was sick.”

“Harry, I got that owl.”

“Well then, did you have to bring everyone?”

“Draco isn’t here.”

“No. He’s at the Manor," said Ron.

“At the Man-” Harry stopped. A sudden tightness in his chest followed by shooting pains in his neck stopping him cold. “I’ll overlook it for right now,” he mumbled. “I owled you last night. Why are you here?”

“Last night ? You thought that was last night? ” Ron's voice was squeaking.  “Blimey, mate. That was two weeks ago.”

Harry swallowed. “What?” He shot a look over to McGonagall who woefully nodded. 

_ Those nightmares. Was I awake? I’m not dumb enough to think this is still a flu after all that. Oh, Merlin. Snape, I wish you were here to slap my arm and tell me what I’m doing wrong. I've seen enough to figure something out but my head just isn't clearing. _

“What day is it?”

Minerva cleared her throat. “Professor Potter, it’s the seventh of December at eleven p.m at night.” Giving him a once over she said, “I’m surprised you have managed to stay on your feet this long.”

“Fuck.”

“Language, Harry.”

“I’m not a-”

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, would you kindly help Professor Potter into his home.”

“Wait, wait,  _ wait. _ Hermione let go. Hang on.” With the last of his rapidly fading energy, Harry pinned Minerva with a pointed look. “You know what’s happening. Tell me.”

“Once you are inside, Professor Potter.” 

He wasn’t winning this one. “Fine.”

Harry gave up, letting Ron and Hermione shuttle him back into the house and with his slurred directions, up to his room. The two took great time fixing him up something to eat before tucking him into bed. He had to admit, it wasn’t a terribly inconvenient visit. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten something solid. But eventually, the pair left, taking what little happiness he could pretend existed with them. With Harry lying tucked into his bed, Professor McGonagall sent the shut the door behind the two as they left and cast some light spellwork.

“Harry-”

“No, wait. I have some things to tell you. I...It’s been a long month.”

“Yes. The school is much more poorly run without your shadow glowering in the corners scaring the students.”

Harry smiled. It was quickly whisked away by what he had to tell her. “You won’t believe me.”

“Try me, Harry.”

“He’s back.” Minerva paled, her posture stiffening. 

“Are you certain?”

“Absolutely. I don’t know how it happened, but it did. And...and Severus isn’t dead. But I think Draco and I have that under control. Is Draco...have you heard anything?”

She nodded curtly. “Yes, he is fine. He’s at the Manor with his father.”

“Then he isn’t fine! That’s the opposite of...oh.” Harry wilted. Bracing himself with an arm against the soft bed, he cast a wayward glance at the mirror not really looking into it. A sickening thought occurred to him. What if they had already killed Severus? 

“Don’t exert yourself, child.”

Harry chuckled lightly. “Haven’t heard you call me that since I tripped on those stairs two years ago and cracked my head open. I must look like rubbish.”

There was no touch of humour to her voice. “Take a look for yourself. Severus has always fancied mirrors.” Minerva looked around a moment before nodding her head in the direction of the largest mirror.

Obliging her, he turned to look into the mirror. Minerva sat with her back to it, hair tied up and hat resting on the bed behind her. Harry’s hair had long streaks of gray in it. His face was dirty and unshaven, growing in strange patches that didn’t quite make up a full beard. The green eyes had turned grey. Blinking and adjusting his glasses his breathing quickened.  _ My eyes. My eyes! They’re grey! _ He moved to grab the small mirror on his chair with a pained groan. Bringing it close to his face, he simply stared at the gray orbs looking back at him. A stranger.

“My eyes.” Minerva sat quietly. “My  _ eyes _ .” 

Harry felt a sudden loss. He had never noticed until this moment that all he identified with rested in the depths of his green eyes. But he knew this symptom. He'd seen it once before.

Whispering to the mirror, he said, “Please, tell me it isn't true.”

Clasping her hands on her lap Minerva sighed. “I’ve caught wind that you and Severus...” Her eyebrows furrowed before she relaxed slightly. “You love that old bat, do you?”

This bit elicited a chuckle from Harry. It quickly degraded into a round of coughing. “Yeah. I sure did, do.”

Minerva nodded to herself. “And you’re certain he hasn’t hexed you from beyond the grave?”

Harry smiled. “No. If he has, he’s a better wizard than I gave him credit for.” After a pause, he added, “And I really do give him a lot of credit.”

“He is a good man, Harry.”

“He is.”

“You can’t be too happy about that. Me and him together I mean. Student, teacher. Or I guess teacher, teacher but at the time-” 

“Severus is hardly one to indulge in his desires, Harry. I would not be the one to block that man from some sliver of happiness. Nor you. As I seem to remember, you have not had the most chipper of lives.”

Harry nodded to himself before turning his gaze back to the mirror.

“I’ve spoken with Poppy.” Harry watched a muscle in his jaw twitch. Poppy being brought into any conversation wasn’t a good sign. “Severus is undoubtedly alive.”

“I told you that.”

“Yes, I am aware. Poppy has reluctantly divulged some information about the two of you. If this were any other situation I would be congratulating you.” Minerva paused, a tremendous sorrow twinkling in her eyes. “I am sorry Harry, both to you and my dear friend, Severus. You are his soul mate.”

The words crashed over him like ice water. Those were the words he was waiting to hear. While in the dark forests of Germany, Harry had been forced to learn as much about soul mates as possible. He had been searching for a pair of mates. One had gone mad and it had indirectly transferred to the other through their connection. He shuddered. It had not ended well. It had ended with the submissive dead with grey eyes and a terrible expression of sorrow on his face. As a result of the expedition though, Harry often dreamed of a reality where he and Severus had been so close, so connected. It was a phenomenal gift. Unless of course, the other was dead.

“He’s not dead.”

Minerva sighed heavily. “No, he isn’t. However, Lucius, that smug bastard, has figured out quite cleverly how to siphon Severus’s magic away from the house and back to Severus, wherever he is.”

“Oh no.”

“Given your current state, and given how well I know that gloomy man, I do believe he is the dominant partner.”

“No. I’ll...I’ll...Fuck.”

“I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“How long?”

“I could never-”

“How  _ long _ Minerva? Don’t play this game with me! I know as well as you do what’s going to happen to me if he doesn’t show up. I’ve studied this. Six summers ago I watched with my own two eyes what happens to a submissive mate when their other half dies. I  _ know _ what that looks like so don’t sit here and lie to me and tell me I’m going to be fine or you don’t know how long. How bloody fucking long?”

“I would be surprised if you saw next year.”

“I want everyone to leave.”

“Professor Potter…”

“Please? You can check up on me once a week.”

“Every other day.”

“Twice a week. Please?”

With a huff, she stood and placed her hat on her head. “Fine, Harry. Perhaps a bit of Severus has worn off on you after all. Have it your way.”

_ Good luck getting through the wards again after you leave. _

“Harry,” she said from the doorway “I’m sorry it couldn’t be another way. Severus and you both deserved such happiness.” He could see watery tears gathering in her eyes. “I will do my utmost to ensure the both of you survive this ordeal.”

There was a promise in those steeled eyes, Harry could see. She was promising that even if Harry died, she would watch over Severus. Care for him and give him love.

“Minerva?”

“Yes, Harry?” There was a tremble in the strong voice.

“Protect him. Please. If...if I can’t, protect him. I know you can. I don’t want him going back to…”

“I promise, Harry.”

Ending the conversation, Harry laid back in the bed, pulling the sheets up to his chin as a terrible shiver worked through him. Lying as he had the other night, Harry propped the mirror up on the chair near his bed and scooted as close to it as he could. Harry, already feeling the tug of unconsciousness at his eyes felt sudden panic prickle through him. The last time he fell asleep he wasted two weeks of his life in a nightmare-fueled sleep. He had no guarantee he would make it out of this again. Squeezing the ring, he made a quiet promise to find Snape, unaware that the man was standing in the mirror watching the sick boy drift off to a nightmare-filled sleep, pounding on the glass to grab his attention, screaming to stay awake a little longer.

_ I won't die, Severus. I still have to save you. I won't die. Not now. I won't. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right. This is sad and overwhelming I know, but the next chapter is the one you've been waiting for. I won't tell you why, but I'll tell you to stick with this just a touch longer. :) Thank you all for your support and as always, let me know what you think!


	22. Hero Complex

Another pained shout lanced through the quiet. Harry was in a bad way, Severus could tell. _Minerva's_ _ estimate was incorrect. Harry has been battling this affliction since we first separated. It’s weakened him. How he hasn't died is a miracle, even Lupin died when his mate was gone and I had him brought to Grimmauld.  _ Severus nervously paced the small closet-like space constructed behind the glass of the mirror. Lucius’s laugh was not hidden from him today and Snape had the displeasure of that cackle interrupting his thoughts as he fought to work a way out of this situation for Harry. Even with the red flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks, he continued thinking.  _ Harry couldn’t possibly have more than a week, perhaps two, but he will not live to see the next year unless I find a way out of this place. Blast! Harry Potter luck... _

He couldn't help but think back to the gorgeous gift Harry had given him on their last night together. It still sat upon the mantle, untouched and gathering dust. His hand twitched as he thought about it, about how many nights after Hogwarts broke for the summer holidays he had held it in his lap and marveled at the unique love that had gone into it. _I was foolish. I had thought I was alone in my feelings. Harry was young, why would he find me attractive? I was a fool!_

Snape flinched as Harry began screaming. It had been this way for a while now. Unwilling to sleep. At first, he would reluctantly give in to sleep when Harry collapsed into silence or slipped beneath the sheets of rest as the symptoms ebbed for a moment. The past two days, Severus had been unable to sleep. Those days of silence were gone now. For the past week since Minerva’s departure, Harry would stay up, though in an unconscious haze, screaming for Severus, yelling garbled words, and violently tossing and turning as pain seized him. And if Harry was suffering from Snape’s absence, the man owed it to Harry as an act of love to witness the depth of their bond, their love. He would not leave his side and he would not abandon his efforts to reach Harry. There would be a moment to seize, he was certain.

And Severus couldn’t overlook the fact that it punished him for hurting Harry. His own carelessness had caused this. The ghostly echo of his father's berating words clung to the silence of his hell. Not a day went by that Severus didn't curse his own existence, his own foolish reluctance to see that Harry cared deeply for him. At most, he thought of Harry's interest as a passing fancy. Some foolish, warped way Harry's mind coped with someone finally giving him the care and attention he deserved.

He was wrong. Snape closed his eyes for a moment before wrenching them open. He could not trust himself not to fall asleep.

_ Harry, I will not leave you. If there remains a sliver of a chance I may reach you, I will continue to try.  _ Snape’s bruised fist landed harshly on the inside of his cage as he called Harry’s name. The screaming lowered to soft whimpers. Severus let out a long breath as he tried not to lose his composure, cognisant of his audience. Though he would die a million times over for Harry, understanding that Lucius frequented his mirror to mock him, wank to the suffering, and bring the Dark Lord near disheartened Snape. He knew he wasn’t aging the way the rest of the world was. He knew they could watch him lose himself as he lost Harry. Snape swallowed calmly, smoothing down his robes. Harry had fallen asleep for the time being. Severus would give them no further show today.

_ Not even the last of my dignity will keep me from trying to reach you, wherever you may be in the throes of that illness. Lupin, even at his very worst he retained some of his mental capacity but perhaps that was his time spent managing the wolf.  _ Snape snorted.  _ Well, you have managed far worse foe rooting around your mind. The Dark Lord plagued you for many years. Perhaps you can understand I have not abandoned you. _

Snape's fist clenched involuntarily as he remembered Lupin's final days clutching to Severus and begging for Sirius. As much as Severus hated the Mauraders, he and Lupin had spoken as adults and worked to overcome the trauma of their past. _Harry, you never knew about him. That mangey mutt Black never did get around to telling you._ Snape watched as Harry whimpered. _It was this way with him as well. Albus asked me to brew a potion to save him. I failed him then as I'm failing you now. Albus forbade me from continuing my research. Damn him. Damn him!_

_It's irrelevant. I will not allow you to perish the way he did. Lucius has faltered twice already. Another slip is imminent._

Harry whimpered again and Snape said, "I am here, Harry."

Another roll of laughter crashed over Severus and try as he might, he could not bite back the shame coloring his cheeks. He knew it was only a matter of time before Harry began squeezing at the ring again. The sick tugging at his navel begged to be answered by his wand. It was there in the Manor but hidden from him. If he was honest, he had thought someone might try to give it back to him by now. He shook his head. At least it was nearby and not burned, broken, or tossed to the wind. Harry’s pale hand ghosted across the ring, tensing Snape’s shoulders. He wanted Harry to rest, to conserve his energy for the final stages. Selfishly, he didn’t want to feel the terrible need buzzing through the ring. At some point in the last eleven years, Harry’s need had attached to and jumped through the ring to Snape’s heart and magical center. Every time Harry grabbed at his ring, Severus couldn’t help but lash out, attempt to reach Harry. 

Severus cleared his throat. It was no matter. If Harry wasn’t squeezing the ring, Severus knew there was no chance Harry could hear him. But every time Harry did reach down to the ring, Severus knew there was a gap of at least fifteen minutes where communication  _ could _ be possible if Lucius allowed it. He had allowed it twice already through arrogance and foolish mistakes. Now that Harry was on the brink of death, Severus knew he couldn’t ignore a potential opportunity just to feel better. Giving Lucius what he wanted, as perverse and painful as it was, remained Snape's only choice. He had long ago decided to bear the pain and the inherent memory blocks that came with the territory of the spell. He even bore the marks of several clever spells and crucios aimed his way. Severus licked at his lips. None of the pain, humiliation, or agony of watching Harry would matter in the end if he escaped. He could bear that pain if he saved Harry. He still had time, Severus had not given into the panic yet. He would still save Harry. 

Lucius laughed louder as Harry’s cries exploded through the mirror. Rage tightened around Snape’s neck and he was suddenly certain that if he escaped he would ring that monster’s throat with his own two hands. Lucius didn’t deserve the dignity of a spell. Severus growled as Lucius continued laughing at the sights and sounds certainly making their way to him from Harry's bedroom.

“He isn’t doing as well as he was, isn’t that right Severus?” Snape was quiet, his jaw set and his eyes hard as he watched Harry writhe. “Come now, my old friend, the Golden Boy is finally dying! This was what we always hoped for, wasn’t it?”

“No, it is not.” Severus tilted his head slightly, peering towards where he knew Lucius was watching. The dark eyes pinned Lucius even through the glass. “I was a foolish child to ever listen to you and I will pay for those sins. However,” Snape paused, “After Lily Evans and James Potter, I did not belong to the Dark Lord.”

“Yes!” Lucius screamed, the bang of his cane rattling the mirrors and shaking Snape. “Yes, that’s it after all. You  _ murdered _ our Lord. You betrayed his trust. How could you Severus?”

“Quite easily.”

Lucius howled with rage. Snape fought against a smirk. Even at the mercy of this madman’s hand, he couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of glee. He was not feeding Lucius what he wanted.

“You think you’re very clever, don’t you?” Severus could practically hear Lucius running a hand down his hair and over his jeweled knuckles to calm himself.

“Indeed.”

Lucius scoffed. “Well, as clever as you presume to be, you are trapped here without your wand and without hope of escaping. I assure you, that spell is not well known in the best of circles. The Aurors haven’t even caught wind of it yet.”

Snape felt his right eyebrow twitch, threaten to lift in curiosity. He would not allow it to betray his impassive face. Lucius saw enough of Snape when Harry was awake. It was even more important that his unreadable mask stay in place when he had the ability to. Even so, Severus was confused. Harry knew that spell, talked of it as though it were as simple as the Unlocking Charm. How had he known? Severus drew in a long, slow breath. So slow in fact he was certain Lucius had not noticed. 

“Is that so?”

Lucius huffed. “The boy is going to die. I have personally overseen it.”

“Then I can only expect this to fail.”

"I brought the Dark Lord back, did I not?"

"Lucius, you are too mad to be clever."

He slid his eyes back to where he was looking at a sleeping Harry. Lucius was slow on his response, no doubt desperately trying to keep the edge out of his voice.  _ He has always been terrible at concealing his wounded pride. For the frequency with which it is wounded, it is surprising.  _ Severus shifted slightly, immediately regretting it as he heard Lucius take several steps closer.  _ He has not orchestrated Harry’s death. He hasn’t. _

“I have already succeeded. You are here, away from your  _ mate _ . He is locked up in that house, your house isn’t it? No matter, your magical signature has long since been drained. A simple spell really, not too great an effort at all to remove your traitorous magic from that place and let the boy starve.”

“My magic? Whatever are you on about?” Snape’s voice was smooth and calm despite the terrible storm raging within. He had set up the wards with old magic bordering on dark and a potion he had created. It should have been able to draw from the residual magic for decades, it was part of why he left Harry his memories and his ring. The house needed his magic to keep its occupants safe. More than that, it was  _ his _ magic that had not returned to him if it had been released. With that rather large chunk of his own magic gone, if he escaped he would be significantly weaker.

“Your magic. Sent away.”

"Cryptic as ever, Lucius."

Lucius huffed, "You are weak, Severus. You are without a wand and you-"

“Which is in your possession, I presume?” 

Lucius paused. Lying easily he said, “Most certainly.” 

_ He still hasn’t found it. Narcissa, wherever you are, thank you.  _

“Severus,” Lucius drawled, “has it struck you that your green-eyed saviour is nearing his end? He is, you know, and I have orchestrated it all. I have captured you here, allowed you to contact him, which of course, only ignited the link between you.” He began to laugh, his voice rising. “I have delivered the boy to the Dark Lord at last! He will be visiting him polyjuiced as you as he is on the very brink of death and that boy will do his bidding with you hidden nearby. The boy will-”

“Do not call him that!” Snape’s voice boomed through the massive hall, silencing the blonde prowling below the mirror. More quietly, he repeated, “Never call him that.”

“Or you will make me regret it?”

“I will escape this mirror, Lucius, before or after Harry dies, but when I do, I will make certain you regret calling him such a name.”

Silence stretched between the two before Lucius finally said, though much further away, “He will die. I have made certain of it.”

“He won’t.”

The cane clacked away and the large wooden doors slammed shut but Snape felt comforted in winning the last word. 

From the other side of the mirror, Severus watched sweat bead upon Harry's brow and roll down his red cheeks joining the puddle of sweat soaking the covers below him. His cries were softer than they had been, revealing an equally disturbing sight. The walls of the house shivered as people attempted at breaking the wards. Snape sighed, knowing Minerva was most likely outside hopelessly attempting to enter to save Harry. It wouldn’t work, not with the way Lucius had planned everything. 

_ The world won’t be rid of him yet. He has Harry Potter luck. _

A particularly sharp shriek tore open Snape’s heart as he looked in on Harry rolling around the bed. The screaming quieted and the grey eyes rolled towards the mirror. Vast seas of sorrows replenished the salty tears trickling down his face in the pale light of a few illuminated candles. Snape watched as Harry held the ringed finger over his chest and mouthed around his first name. The madness had left. Harry, though terribly ill, was lucid enough to remember the mirror and to remember that Severus was in there, watching. Closing his eyes in grief, Severus turned his head away, fighting against his own tears as his mouth opened to let out a small, soundless breath of pain. The final stage had begun. 

Several years back, at the request of Albus, he had sat beside a screaming Remus Lupin after the death of Sirius. Severus had managed to concoct several potions to ease the symptoms but none to prevent the inevitable. As close as he had gotten, he had never quite completed the potion. If he had been able to discuss matters with the Ministry, he might have made enough progress to save Lupin, an enemy that had, at the end, become a friend. As such, he had seen this all before. He had _documented_ the steps and they had been burned into his memory.

_ Once the madness fades, it’s only a matter of hours.  _

"Harry," Severus growled. "Find patience for once." With his forehead touching the glass he whispered, "Please."

A small moan opened Snape’s eyes to Harry now huddled on his side, clutching himself with white knuckles. The screams had given way to small mewls of pain and the whimpers of some deep need Severus yearned to satisfy. The soft mumblings coming from the gaunt face upset Severus more than the shouts.

_ Foolish boy. Foolish, foolish boy! Falling in love with a dead man.  _

Snape ground his teeth as he paced back and forth across the black room. He knew where he was and how to get out. Only, he couldn’t accomplish it without his wand. Another wrenching tug at his belly and Snape smashed a fist against the invisible wall separating him from Harry. His eyebrows rose in and up as he watched Harry softly beg for him to return to him. Snape’s stomach churned. Lucius had enacted his revenge.

_ A magical stasis mirror. Not even allowed the dignity to die. Isn’t that right Lucius? Not even given the chance to save the boy one last time. The moment you revealed me to Harry all the magic in that house left because of you. Lucius, I will get out of here and I’ll kill you if it hasn’t been tended to already. _

Moving away from Harry’s image, he paced the confined, closet-like space as best he could. Snape understood he was somewhere in Malfoy Manor, trapped inside some ornate mirror charmed so he couldn’t escape. The tap of a wand tip would send him hurtling to the floor and back to reality. Until then, he could only navigate the world of mirrors watching like some strange visitor. If only he could ascertain  _ where _ he was in the massive Malfoy Manor perhaps then he would have a chance of saving Harry.

Furrowing his brow further, he clasped his hands behind his back as he carefully watched over Harry. He had come of magical age after Snape vanished but since Snape himself hadn’t died, if he was truly Harry’s soulmate it wouldn’t be dissolved. It would only burn him alive. Such a thought would never have occurred to him. Worse, the confusing effect of the soulmate connection between them had slowly been eating away at Harry for years. Severus presumed the only reason he didn't die immediately was the presence of the house.

_ Damn that Lucius. I was too absorbed in protecting the brat to even believe that he could have a soulmate, let alone be pompous enough to dream of it being me. A lonely, disgusting man. A Death Eater.  _ _ I have failed you, Harry. I allowed my love for you to blind me to a truth so dreadfully obvious Lucius could see it and seize an opportunity I should have been able to predict.  _

A soft, “Please” whined its way through Snape’s ears.

_ Harry…  _

Severus walked over to the mirror and began calling out to Harry, relaying the stories he had cared most for in the past and dredging up terribly embarrassing memories of himself he knew Harry enjoyed. None of it seemed to bring Harry back. He had descended too far already. After hours of attempting to break through the mirror, and several minutes of fruitless screaming and punching, Severus took a step back. Placing his back against the mirror and feeling the strong tug of the portkey on his navel, the trench between his eyebrows grew deeper. Without even watching Harry, he could feel the burn running through his body, eating him alive. Severus knew the desperation in that voice calling out for his mate. There wouldn’t be much time left before Harry’s own magic consumed him. The end had finally pulled above the horizon into sight.

Suddenly, the wall wasn’t behind him any longer and he was toppling backward with a shout. Landing roughly on his back, Snape winced despite a last-minute, half-effective cushioning charm.

“Sorry, didn’t know you were leaning on it.”

Gathering breath back in his lungs and his legs under him, Snape stood, towering over a much older, distraught looking Draco. “Draco.”

“I don't have much time before Lucius returns and neither do you.” Draco handed Snape his wand. Sheepishly looking down at his feet Draco shrugged, saying, “Mother sends her regards. Potter has a lot of good friends.”

“It seems so do I.”

“Mother found me this evening after dinner. Harry’s bad. Get going. You have no idea how many mirrors are in this fucking place. It took long enough. Lucius will be back in another few hours. I’ll be out before then so don’t get stern with me.”

Snape tsked at his godson but pulled him into a rough embrace nonetheless. They had hugged on only two other occasions and it felt rough and unpracticed but at that moment, there was nothing short of a hug to show that boy how much he appreciated him.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll see you later. And hey,” Draco paused, straightening his posture. “Don’t say I didn’t forget Christmas this year.”

Snape gave a soft smile. “Thank you, Draco.” Before leaving he quickly said, “Do not force me to return back here to attempt a rescue.”

“Get going. I’ll be okay.”

With a nod, Snape began apparating from spot to spot. Pausing just outside Hogwarts, he supposed he was a little under halfway to his final destination. Leaning against a tree, Snape panted as he fought to catch his breath. He hadn’t practiced magic in eleven years and now he was attempting to apparate nearly all the way across the country while weakened. Bearing down and preparing to begin apparating again without splicing himself to pieces, he felt a deep tug on his belly.

_ Harry! _

With a flick of his wand, he was traveling without effort towards Harry, the ring finally bringing Severus to the man he needed to save. Snape landed heavily on his feet next to Harry who was currently shaking hard enough to rattle his teeth. The sweat had stopped forming and a sticky sheet of salt covered Harry’s forehead. A rough shout broke from Harry’s throat as a small stream of blood dribbled from his nose.

“Severus,  _ please _ .”

Rushing to his side, for a moment Snape’s hands hovered over Harry’s writhing figure. 

“Oh, Harry.”

Kneeling on the floor besides Harry, Severus laced one hand through the snarled locks of chocolatey hair, gently petting the wizard until the knots had been combed through. Winding his other hand in between Harry’s head and the pillow, Snape gently cradled the man’s gruff face. Harry moaned softly as Snape wiped the blood from his skin. Leaning in low, Snape pressed a chaste kiss to the chapped and bloody lips. 

Still combing a hand absentmindedly through the hair he said, “I’m here Harry. It’s all right, now. There you go.” 

Bringing one hand to Harry’s neck, he felt the withering pulse beat erratically. The pale eyes cracked open to look up at Snape. He brushed the hair from Harry’s forehead and peered into the white eyes. Slowly, bits of green began blooming there like algae as the heart in his care found a more certain rhythm. Severus kept his hands on Harry until the ghostly eyes had become a jungle of green. Onyx eyes stared into the depths of the emerald ones as shadows played across Snape’s face. Harry’s eyes were opening but unseeing. Snape dropped his forehead to Harry’s, relishing the feel of Harry against him again.

_ He’s alive, Severus. He’s alive. _

The hands resting gently in Harry’s mop of dark locks were suddenly roaming all across his body, touching, memorizing, and bringing drops of soothing comfort everywhere they went. The tense muscles beneath him sagged as Harry relaxed into the bed. Nuzzling into Harry’s neck, Snape half jerked Harry out of the bed as he pulled him into a rough embrace. The house rattled again. Snape knew he had other matters to attend to. Harry would live, he would be fine now that Severus was near.

Pulling back, he organized Harry’s hair again as he looked into the green eyes dimly aware of their surroundings.

“Do you suppose you can stay out of trouble for one measly moment?” The voice held no malice, no bite and though Snape suspected he would receive no answer, he was rewarded with a small nod.

“Good boy.”

The words popped out without thought and before he could take them back, he was rewarded with a small smile as Harry scooted closer.

“S’vrus?”

“Yes, I’m here.” He pulled the sweaty sheets back around Harry, muttering a spell to dry them. Harry hummed as he settled into the warmth of the bed. The harsh lines of Snape’s face softened as he watched Harry “I need to fetch some potions.” He wanted to snap, to ask if Harry could stay out of trouble again but he watched as though piloted by some stranger as he ran a thumb across Harry’s lips and asked, “Will you be all right?”

The weak body below him nodded again and Severus pulled away from Harry, already feeling the tendrils of old house magic reaching out to snatch his own to fortify the wards. A soft smile tickled the edges of his mouth as he hurried out of the room. With his cloak moving around his lithe form as it bustled down the hallways, Snape rushed to his potions room. Allowing the unhinged emotions to create havoc within his own magical center, he continued moving through the house. Magical energy erupted off him as he went, feeding the house and its wards. A deep sense of exhaustion nipped at his heels as he felt the home slip bits of his energy into its foundation. Soon enough, he was able to reign his emotions back into a tight ball as the home stopped feeding on him. Harry moaned off in the distance.

_ It seems as though everyone desires my magic tonight. _

The wards tightened across the perimeter as Snape’s cloak billowed behind his clacking steps. Quickly descending a dim staircase, a sharp round of screams made their way through the home as Severus reached towards the door to his private lab. He knew that surprised, angry scream anywhere. 

_ Minerva. Of course, you’re here. Serves the witch right for attempting to penetrate my wards.  _ Still, he smiled. She had come to protect Harry. A part of him was glad the attacks on his home had come from her and not from Death Eaters under Lucius’s command. 

He slammed to an abrupt halt outside his potions lab. The wards had changed. Harry had changed them. Dark brows furrowing, Severus tapped it lightly with his dark wand straightening immediately. Exhausted as he may have been, he paused to examine the wards further. Something was amiss. Severus stood before the large wooden door for a handful of minutes knowing a lesser wizard would have ignored the change entirely. As he passed his wand over for the tenth time with a darker analytical spell blossoming in white sparks from its tip, he caught what Harry had been attempting to hide. 

_ Dark warding. This is a terribly intricate spell. One of the Dark Lord’s own creations, if I am not mistaken.  _ Snape pursed his lips.  _ He knew the curse Lucius used as well. Familiarity with the Dark Arts is a prerequisite for Defense but utilizing them is not. Harry, what have you been doing? _

Walking through the wards that knew him, he entered with a huff. Snape stood motionless as his eyes raked over the spotless lab. The cauldrons had been meticulously cleaned, the tables bare and without dust. Even his store of ingredients had been rotated. Any potion that would have gone bad given the time period he’d been away had been carefully refilled with a fresh one. Taken aback by the state of cleanliness he found it in, he quickly snatched a few potions before bustling back up the stairs to Harry who very much needed the potions in hand.

The green eyes slipped open as Snape kneeled beside the bed. 

“Sleeping draught, nutritional potions, a calming draught, and a fortifying potion.” He looked down at the glass of water he had conjured. “Water to wash it down, of course, since you are so...averse...to the taste of my potions.” The green eyes blinked up slowly but crinkled along the edges in an attempted smile. “Fortifying potion first, if you will.”

Harry cracked his lips open and eagerly drank.

“You stocked the lab.” Harry made a feeble sound. “Thank you, Harry. Final two potions.” Feeding Harry a mix of dark purple and silver draughts, a twitch pursed his lips as the eyes began to slip shut. He tipped the water into Harry’s throat and watched as the boy smiled before giving in to a good night’s rest.

“Some rest will do you good.” He frowned. “But you need tending to.”

Cleaning the disaster of a bathroom with a flick of his wand, Snape rolled up his sleeves and ran a bath. Carefully peeling a very fevered Harry out of the bed, Severus walked him over to the tub, undressed him, and settled him in with a spell to ensure he wouldn’t drown himself.

Turning his attention back to the bedroom, Snape set about repairing all accidental damage the thrashing had caused and cleaned the stench from the walls. When he had finished, he returned to Harry’s side lathering up a cloth and washing him down. Bubbles floated skyward and latched onto the black strands framing his worried face before popping. He hummed low in his throat as he watched color begin to resurface across Harry’s skin. 

With a flick of his wand, Harry had been dried off and dressed in a light pair of dark pajamas. Holding him close to his chest, Severus carried the tired wizard out of the room and down the hall. The black toe of his polished shoes nudged the door to his bedroom open. Here too, nothing had changed. Not even the place where he left his robe. Laying Harry beneath the deep green duvet and dark sheets, Snape sat beside the freshly shaven and cleaned man who looked years younger as he slept.

Rubbing a hand across Harry’s back Snape said, “I’ll return in a moment. I believe there is a witch outside I must attend to.”

Feeling the drain the night had taken, Snape pulled a potion from his pocket and downed the sweet liquid hoping it would buy him at least ten minutes of energy. A bit of strength returned to his tired bones as he made his way towards his front door. Looking at himself in the small mirror in the entryway, he buttoned up his collar, rolled his sleeves down, and straightened his back. It would do Minerva no good to see a haggard Snape claiming to have everything under control.

Opening the door to Hermione, Ron, and Minerva standing with their wands out at the edge of his property made him smile. Quietly allowing the wards to accept these three to approach his home, he stood for a moment, silently surprised they had all shown up. The three took several steps closer to the man bathed in moonlight. A delicate click of the door behind him urged him to cross the final few steps towards them. Three sets of eyes went wide as the moonlight illuminated their suspicions. 

Severus was alive. 

His low voice rumbled out across the garden. “Harry is safe in my care.”

Hermione sagged against Ron whose face exploded into a massive grin. The tired roll of his eyes showed Severus a different story. They must have been here for weeks on and off, desperately trying to reach their friend. Minerva adjusted the clasp on her robe but could not hide the shock of her features. The blue eyes teared and her lips trembled slightly. So overcome with shock, the three took a long moment to realize it was indeed Severus who was talking to them.

Minerva spoke first, still not realizing she was speaking with Severus again. “It seems Draco made good on his promise to save Harry.”

“Yes, quite. He did rescue me from the Manor.” Snape snorted. “Severus Snape rescued by the Malfoy prat.”

Minerva startled, suddenly snapped from her daze. “Severus! What on earth are you doing here? Harry mentioned that he and Draco were certain you were alive but I thought it was a delusion. Oh, Severus. I am ever so sorry. But how are you here?”

_ Witch nearly lost her hat on that one. _

“I-”

“Oh Professor Snape! Thank goodness you’re here! Harry’s been so ill and we haven’t been able to get inside. Of course, there are a few spells that allowed us to at least  _ see _ him. And Draco has been more than cooperative with letting us know Harry’s at least  _ alive _ but he’s been at the Manor and we really couldn’t get to him. We never thought that...”

Hermione prattled on as Ron stood blinking before beginning to talk over her. Even Minerva began speaking again. Letting the worried chatter wash over him, Severus closed his eyes as the pale light danced over his ivory skin and cast a blue sheen to his dark hair.

Holding up his hand, Snape silenced everyone. “Miss Granger, though I suspect it is Mrs. Granger-Weasely, I have heard quite enough. I assure you and Mr. Weasley here that you will at some point hear the story. Perhaps over some tea. For the time being, will it suffice to say Harry is well cared for and in no danger?”

“Yes, Professor. That’ll do just fine.” Hermione smacked Ron as he opened his mouth to protest. Ever the diplomat, she continued. “We’ll leave you to it, then.” Reaching out and crossing some unspoken barrier, Hermione laid a delicate hand on Snape’s arm. Nearly whispering she said, “I know he’s in good hands. It’s good to have you back.”

“It is good to be back.” Hermione and Ron hustled to the edge of the property where they promptly disapparated. “Minerva, please. Do not give me that look.”

“Are you all right, Severus?”

He sighed. “No, I don’t suppose I am. I will floo to Poppy in the morning. Is that sufficient?”

For a moment, it seemed as if Minerva would resist. With a tightening of her lips and a flick of her head, she simply replied, “It will have to do. I don’t suppose I’ll be able to pry you away from here tonight.”

“You’ve always been soft, Minerva.”

“Too soft.” She nodded woefully before looking back at Severus. “It has been a long while, Severus and very little has changed.”

He placed a strong hand on her shoulder. “I do not need to hear of it tonight.”

“No,” she laughed. “I suppose you don’t. It’s been just been so long.”

“It has. I suppose the next time we have tea it will be in the Headmaster’s office.”

“Headmistress’s office.”

Snape nodded, a wicked grin teasing his lips. “I am glad I can see the day. How  _ have _ you chosen to decorate it?”

Minerva brushed his hand off her shoulder with a playful slap. “Only you would care about that, my dear. Only you.”

Severus opened his mouth to retort about how important one’s decorating sense was but found himself cut off by a sudden lack of energy. The potion had begun to wear off.

“It seems my Vigor Potion has worn off.”

The older witch nodded solemnly. “Go. He needs you. But Severus?”

“Yes?”

“Please firecall me when you’ve returned from Poppy's. I won’t pressure you into having a lemon drop with me after Poppy, Merlin no, but I would appreciate a brief firecall. It isn’t as though I’ll inform the Ministry if you don’t, but I would like to see you and Harry. I presume there is much the both of you haven’t told me.”

“Minerva…” Snape trailed off. There wasn’t anything he could say. Instead, he remembered Poppy complimenting his hugs. Letting a tired swell of enamourment, he gently tugged Minerva into a strong embrace. Thin hands came up and returned the hug.

A muffled, “I am terribly glad you’re back. The castle isn’t the same without you hiding in its shadows and frightening the children.”

“I missed you, Minerva.” The woman in his embrace tensed. Not once over their many years of friendship had he ever come close to verbally expressing he cared. 

Pulling out of the hug, Minerva’s teary eyes looked up to Snape as she clucked her tongue. “And I’ve gone soft. Harry has turned you to melted butter.”

“Perhaps he has.”

“Goodnight, Severus.”

“Goodnight, Minerva. I hope you find some rest tonight.” 

She laughed quietly, looking at the man who despite his great journey, stood with his shoulders square and his head held high. She regarded him for a moment longer before turning around and leaving the property. 

Snape nodded to himself before trudging back through the front door and shutting the door with a click. The potion’s effect already gone, Severus climbed the stairs wearily and dragged himself down the hall towards his room where Harry slept comfortably. Shedding his robes and neatly folding them on a chair, Snape set his wand on the nightstand and slipped into dark pajama bottoms. Pulling back the covers, Snape extinguished the lights and slid himself into the warm embrace of the bed beside Harry. 

Unable to silence the groan coming from his lips at the sweet release of being horizontal for the first time in eleven years, Severus rolled onto his side and tugged Harry close to him. Keeping his tired eyes open a moment longer, he watched his warm breath ruffle the clean hair on the back of Harry’s head. 

“I love you, Harry Potter.” 

The words had finally escaped his mouth and landed in reality. The obsidian eyes fluttered closed as his forehead nuzzled up against the back of Harry’s head. This was good, this was warm and happy like a summer sunset. The small child inside Severus shrieked with joy. After all this time, he had love to give and for a moment, he could allow himself to be loved by Harry’s soft snores and the body cuddling up even closer to him. Finally giving in to sleep, Severus fell deep into darkness surrounded by the warm golden glow of Harry’s magic, content. Happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D Are we happy? Is this nice? No one is dying! Together at last! As always, please let me know what you think of it! Your support is humbling and I'm so glad you've all been with me on this journey so far. Just a few chapters left in this book!


	23. Tradition

The world was warm around Severus. Blankets tucked around him and the heating charms were in full effect as his dark eyes opened to stare at the ceiling. But it was the firm body pressed into his side and draped across his chest that warmed him most. The mop of hair was tucked into the crook of Snape’s neck, lying delicately across the scar gnarling up the soft skin. Blinking back the veil of sleep, Severus was overwhelmed by the scent of sandalwood, sleep, and toffee. Sucking in a deep breath, Snape closed his eyes to the light of day, content to pass the time until his alarm went off with Harry snuggled against him. The arm underneath Harry tightened marginally, pulling Harry and his warmth closer.

_ Harry. _ Breathing a sigh of relief, Severus gave into the moment and succumbed to the blissful state between sleep and waking. Harry’s rhythmic breathing and occasional snores wrapped the Potions Master in a blanket of sunshine and hope.  _ Mated. Mated to Harry Potter.  _ He snorted quietly.  _ James and his blasted gang must be rolling in their graves.  _ The tickle of worry began to wake with his brain but Severus was quick to shove it away for the time being. He breathed in another breath of air, unsurprised to find it had turned frigid.

A cool breeze suddenly tickled the stray strands of hair draped haphazardly across his face. It had been over a decade since he had the luxury of waking in his cottage, to his own alarm and his lips twitched, remembering the pancake debacle with Harry back at Hogwarts.  _ He certainly made a mess of things. _ The image of a lone strawberry rolling to his feet pushed a wider grin onto his face. Rolling his eyes as soon as they were opened, he carefully looked down at Harry whose brow was furrowed and his hands clenched in Snape’s pajama top. Muttering a soft incantation, the breeze stopped and the room fell back into its silent state broken up only by the light snores of the warm body tangled up in his own. The hand fisted in his shirt relaxed.

With great care not to disturb Harry, Severus maneuvered himself out of the tangled mess of limbs and tucked the blankets around Harry who was already curling in on himself. Severus regarded him with sorrow muting the passion in his dark eyes. Absently, he sat beside Harry for a moment, carding his hand through the raven locks with a heavy sigh. The Durselys had left their mark after all.

Leaving Harry’s side, Severus made his way to the adjoined bathroom thinking,  _ Someday you will feel safe.  _ He shook his head, scattering the thoughts and mindlessly going about showering, dressing, and going down the stairs. 

As he reached the bottom step, he snapped his fingers. A small, dainty-looking house-elf with wide blue eyes appeared with a crack and a low bow.

“Master Snape! You have returned.”

“Yes, of course. Sylvas-”

“Sylvas is very happy you are back, sir. Would Master Snape care for coffee? A treacle tart?” The little elf’s ears perked up as she wrung her hands together. “Perhaps Master Snape would like the house tidied?”

Snape pulled back. Sylvas was a sweet house-elf. He had found her during his first year teaching at Hogwarts, sniffling in Knockturn Alley, begging anyone to give her work. Never in all her years of service had she ever cut him off.

“Sylvas,” Severus was respectful, even to the house-elves. “Is something the matter?”

The blue eyes widened. “Oh no, sir! Nothing is the matter. Sylvas is simply...eager to work.”

Snape straightened suddenly realizing exactly what had occurred. Harry must not have thought to check if the house had a house-elf to take care of its needs. Without his instruction, Sylvas would have only been sulking around, hiding. It was the reason her previous master had relieved her, after all. Too afraid to make a mistake, the poor little house-elf lacked any sense of initiative, making her perfect for someone like Severus who rathered people and elves both mind their own business.

“A cup of coffee, then. And see to tidying the house.” More to himself he said, “It could use your touch.” He grimaced at the cap of a liquor bottle sitting next to its friends on the floor. “Please leave my room be. We have a guest.”

“Harry Potter, sir?”

Grumbling he said, “The one and only.” Sylvas remained quiet, now noticeably bouncing between her feet. “You may go.”

“Thank you, sir.”

She vanished with a happy pop. Snape pinched the bridge of his nose.  _ Only he would forget to check if there was a house-elf. Has he never absorbed the ways of the wizarding world?  _

Sylvas arrived back at his feet with a steaming cup of hot coffee, black. Gratefully taking the cup, he quickly told Sylvas to alert Poppy that he would arrive in a few minutes, hopefully well before the students woke and started asking questions. Whichever ones had stayed for the winter holiday that is.

Sipping on the coffee he grumbled to himself, “It has not been long enough for the youth to forget me.” Running a long hand through his hair he sighed. “They would be on me in moments.” He snorted. “Children. Feral creatures.”

Already dressed and ready to leave, Snape took to his grounds walking around and reacquainting himself with the cottage. Absolutely everything was in its right place. The dark eyes raked over every surface, every corner, every shadow the cottage held only to find nothing amiss. Heading outside, his eyebrows raised. It had snowed. Moving as a black ink blot against the white snow, Severus inspected his garden with joyful fondness warming his heart. 

_ Ah, the wards here failed completely. _ He rubbed a purple petal between his fingers.  _ Of course, the idiot infused new wards with his magic to protect them. Ill, approaching an untimely end, and casting protective wards over my garden.  _ The dark eyes skittered to some new, extremely rare plants off to the side of the garden.  _ Our garden, I suppose it is now that you have filled it with your own...plants. _

Moving over to the section of newer plants, Severus looked down at them with a frown. These plants were used in questionable potions, the most notable being Veritaserum and the Draught of Living Death. Several smaller plants neatly tucked beneath the shadow of the taller ones Severus recognized as completely illegal. They had an uncanny knack for appearing in failed resurrection potions and dark potions that worked similarly to the Imperius but left no trail to the wizard.

Severus had half a mind to rip the plants out and incinerate them. They could only cause trouble. Such plants called every dark wizard to them by simply  _ existing _ . But he let them be, too curious to destroy them and too intelligent to disrupt them. He left them alone, like the wards surrounding his lab. He quickly surveyed the rest of the property, inspecting the wards and groaning with the realization that Draco had unfettered access to his doorstep. 

“I will never be rid of him if Harry has given him a couch here already.” Rubbing at his temple he continued to whine, "And I owe him a life debt. He will be impossible to please."

Shaking his head, Snape returned back into the cottage. 

Swallowing around a lump of uneasiness in his throat, he approached the sitting room. The only room he had left untouched was this combined sitting room and library. A horrible feeling of blind terror seized his heart as he took in the scene. It was just as he left it. So much so that his brain abruptly pulled him back to the moment.

He had been sitting in that very chair when he had felt the tugging at his belly and known Harry was in danger. Barely a week prior, the Dark Lord had pulled together every Death Eater with triumphant news.  _ “Harry Potter will die. At long last, we will be rid of the Boy Wonder!”  _ Severus raked a hand through his hair as he remembered the terrible laugh that had accompanied such news. He had gone to Albus, as he was instructed to, and the old man merely nodded before thanking Severus and sending him on his way. And he had left, quietly seething as he waited to his return to the cottage.

The stinging terror had wet his eyes that night when he had finally been able to return to the cottage. He knew Harry was in danger. He knew he could do nothing to stop the events from unfolding. He could only wait with bated breath and hope Harry would call for him soon, before the world went dark. 

Severus stood motionless as his dark eyes gazed down at the shattered teacup sitting on the coffee table. He remembered the moment perfectly. The terror of realizing Harry was in danger had jolted through him and he had dropped the cup, listened to it shattered with horror painting the pale features of his face. The Dark Lord's words had cracked through his brain like lightning and illuminated the hopelessness of the situation. And now, with Harry sleeping safely in his bed, he couldn’t help but hear the crash of his entrance into that vile Muggle home. The terrible screams and muffled thuds coming from Harry, his Harry, were burned into his mind.

Snape blinked away the tears beginning to form as he imagined Harry arriving here, in his home after watching him teeter on the brink of death.  _ He has not touched anything. Not in eleven years. Brat has not even fixed the cup. _ Picking up one of the delicate porcelain shards, he fingered it. Harry had kept it there.  _ Harry… I never intended to leave you that way.  _ He pocketed the piece he had been playing with knowing that Sylvas would clean up the rest shortly. Severus could not fix the cup, could not bring himself to disturb the sole sign he had ever existed in there.  _ Was that it Harry? If you repaired the cup, there would be no proof that I had lived here. It could have all been show. No dishes dirtied, no cauldron unscrubbed, no potion left bubbling. I had left only that cup. _

Moving as though in a trance, he approached the mantle with the lovely gift decorating it. Cradling the miniature forest in his hands, he watched the stag Patronus nuzzle closer to the sleeping doe. The inscrutable face began to crumble as he held the object. Pale pink lips turned down as he desperately bit his lower lip to stop the tears from falling. They fell anyway, painting long trails down his cheeks. Dark hair fell forward, covering his face in shadows. The dark eyes glittered with tears and the furious fire aimed at Lucius. He had stolen this from Severus. He had taken eleven years of possibility and thrown them into the fire, burning them until they resembled painful memories of Harry suffering from the hollow emptiness of losing his soul mate.

Whispering to the gift, Severus said with as much composure as he could muster, “I  _ will _ destroy him. I vow to bring him down.”  _ With a bit of Harry Potter luck, of course. _

Setting it down, he roughly brushed the tears from his face and walked through the floo into Poppy’s office.

“Severus!” He had little warning before the medi-witch threw her arms around her neck in a chaotic, awkward hug that sent Snape stumbling momentarily. 

“Merlin, Poppy. You are strong enough to wrestle a Weasley now.”

Slapping his arm lightly, Poppy pulled back. Bright blue eyes searched Snape’s gaze.

“I’m so sorry, Severus.”

He turned his head.  _ Foolish to dream of scraping through this without accruing pity. _

“Draco explained that-”

Turning his head back, eyes blazing, he snapped, “How is it that Draco happens to be informing  _ everyone _ of what has happened?”

More softly, Poppy said, “He told me you were alive. The Headmistress has been absent for a while, I'm sure you know where, and drinking too many potions, far too many than is good for a witch.” Poppy clacked into a room tucked off the side of the infirmary, stopping with her hands on her hips. Severus followed cautiously, stopping when he saw the black hat resting on the nightstand. 

“Where is he?”

“Lying low. He resigned from his teaching position here just last night. His father was none too happy that you escaped. There have been several incidents. The students will not be exempt, of course.”

Snape nodded. Of course. Lucius would immediately retaliate by harming the Muggles. If Severus didn’t have Harry to tend to, he knew he would be out there fighting Lucius at this very moment. 

“Lucius has never had any qualms when it came to torture.”

“No. Draco did the right thing by leaving here. Minerva will be looking for a new professor after the holidays.” She looked Snape up and down. “Though I hardly think she’ll have to look far. You haven’t aged a day! It is peculiar, that.”

Snape was quiet. He knew where this was headed.

“Minerva made it clear before I charmed her to the bed that you were to be examined. So don’t think you can weasel your way out of this one. Merlin knows you avoid me at all costs.”

“You wound me.”

“Come on, then. Over here.”

“I will not sit on a bed.”

Poppy let out an annoyed sigh. “Fine, then. You can stand. But you’ll be standing for a while.” 

Reluctantly and with a sneer, Snape sat onto a free cot with a huff. Poppy began buzzing around Severus without wasting a second.

Playing with the edge of his sleeves with his fingers, he said, “You knew.”

Her wand stuttered before resuming its scans. “I did.”

“Harry very nearly died because of your carelessness.” The words were low and in them, a threat was laced.

This time the wand stopped altogether. Clasping her hands together she dropped into a nearby chair. “Severus…”

Trademark sneer in place, Severus moved only his eyes to look over at Poppy. “Choose your words carefully, Madam Pomfrey. It would be a shame for you to...misspeak.”

The medi-witch looked at him for a moment before turning her eyes down to her hands. 

Very quietly, she started speaking. “It’s bad form to tell mates before they’ve both come of age.”

Growling now, Severus stood from his place. “Given the circumstances, you should have told me.” 

“I didn’t think it would change anything. It didn’t matter. With You-Know-Who around, I figured it would be a problem for after the war.”

Nostrils flaring, Snape let his sneer grow as his eyebrow reached incredulously high. “It did not matter?”

“Severus.”

In two steps he had arrived at her side. Hauling her up by her arms, he spat, “Do you think I would have rushed in there that night to sacrifice myself for him if I knew he was my mate? It would have been kinder to kill him with the same curse that scarred him. Don’t think for one paltry moment that I would risk his life like that. I would have kept him. At. My. Side. and well out of harm’s way.”

His eyes blazed. Severus had not felt so betrayed since that fateful night when he had discovered Albus allowed such terrible treatment of Harry as a child. Entire face contorted in rage, he dug his fingers into Poppy’s shoulders. 

“The Dark Lord would stop at nothing to kill him. Surely you realized that.”

“I-”

“Thought it better to let the damn boy struggle for eleven years  _ knowing _ his mate was dead?” Poppy hung her head. “I am ashamed of you. You who swore an oath to protect these students. Who for all these years have valiantly risked your own safety to tend to the needs of these precious students. Why then did Harry not matter? You should have told me, Poppy! I deserved to know!” Grunting, he yelled out before releasing the witch. “I could have stopped this.”

“I know.” 

Those two words sobered Severus.  _ She knows. She knows that nothing would have come of it if I was dead. Harry learning he had a soul mate may have been enough to push him over the edge just as the magic vanishing from the house had. She knows that if I had known, the Dark Lord could have twisted that to his favour. Merlin, Severus. This is ridiculous. _

Before he had the chance to apologize, Poppy gentle pushed him towards the bed. “Don’t apologize. If you start, then I’ll have to have a go and we both don’t have enough time in the day for our apologies, hm?”

Snape shook his head, sitting back down. Mumbling he said, “I wish I could have prevented some of it. Any of it.”

A small hand squeezed his shoulder. “That sounds awfully close to an apology for you.”

Snape snorted. “I’ve been told I’ve gone soft.”

“You? Never.” Poppy looked down at her wand and continued the evaluation, making idle small talk as she went. “The tree is lovely this year. You ought to see it if you have the chance.”

“Small talk?”

“It’s been eleven years. I’m entitled to some small talk with you.”

Snape rolled his eyes. “I’m certain I am not missing anything with that blasted tree.”

“You are the only wizard who has come through here in all my years that doesn’t take interest in that  _ blasted tree _ .”

Severus was quiet. Truth be told, he adored the tree. His family had never decorated for Christmas. Unfortunately, with money as tight as it always was, Christmas was a time of terrible turmoil and fights whose consequences lasted well into the new year. Severus could still feel some of the bruises he had received over the years. Hogwarts never hurt him that way. He would wake early and sit beside the large tree, its lights flickering in the obsidian depths. Often one of the Hogwarts elves would pop by with a cup of cocoa as he toyed with the long green needles. The soft pines always seemed to radiate love and happiness. 

Looking at his polished dress shoes, Severus let out a long sigh. It had been so long since he had been able to be near Hogwarts for the holidays. As a professor, he snuck out in the middle of the night to sit beside the tree, though rarely from the floor as he had as a child. Bittersweet as it often was, many times as a child and as an adult Severus had let those lights twinkle in his eyes and give him the idea that maybe someday he would be allowed to have something like a family. Something that loved him.

“The students who are staying won’t wake until later.”

“I fail to see how that concerns me.”

“Of course.” 

Severus shifted nervously. Harry had never had a tree either. Many times he had found Harry beside that tree as a student so unaware of his surroundings he never registered Snape was watching. He had stood too many times, with his hand on his wand watching with great interest as Harry fingered the delicate ornaments. It was a mystery he had not uncovered until Harry showed him. Frowning as the gears in his head turned, Severus rolled over a deliciously dangerous idea in his head. Poppy interrupted with a sharp clap.

“You’re healthy as a hippogriff. Well…mostly.”

Snape raised his brow.

“You haven’t aged more than a few months.”

“I was gone for eleven years.”

“Yes! I bloody well know. But you haven’t aged.” She reached forward and yanked out a piece of his hair. “Oh don’t look at me like that. You wouldn’t have volunteered it anyway. If I have this,” she waggled the long strand of hair “I don’t need you to stick around. And I know you don’t want to stay here longer than you have to. Really, Severus. The only person who has escaped me more is Harry.”

Rubbing his fingers over the sensitive spot on his scalp he said, “Minerva has worn off on you.”

“I take that as a compliment. Now, I _am_ ordering you to take some rest. Those wards and Harry both took a lot of your energy."

"I may finally be able to listen to that."

"Good. And yes, I am finished.” 

Standing to his full height, he looked over his nose at the medi-witch. Words eluded him and he nodded politely before walking over to the floo. 

“Severus?” He turned slightly, his sharp features protruding from his face. From the side of his eye, he could see great disappointment clouding her features. “I am sorry.”

Glare back in full force, Snape huffed. “So it would seem.”

She cocked her head. “Hogwarts missed you.”

As much as he wanted to rebut, Severus couldn’t. The walls would have likely come down and crushed him. The swell of enamourment for Hogwarts and the tree slowly overrode his rational mind as he stood in front of the floo.  _ I have not seen the tree in eleven years. A glimpse. A quick glimpse. _

Storming back through the infirmary, he waved off the smiling medi-witch as the heavy doors slammed behind him. It felt good to be back at Hogwarts though he had to admit, it was a pleasant change not to have to contend with the student population. The familiar clack of his heels against the tile paired with the tug of wind on his cloak as he marched towards the entrance had his heart singing in a way he had forgotten. Hogwarts had missed him after all. A tightly reigned smile twitched on his lips as he tipped his chin a little higher. 

Rounding the corner, he tossed the doors into the Great Hall open. As if it were his first Christmas at Hogwarts all over again, the breath was whisked from his lungs as he looked up to see snow falling from the starry sky. It fluttered slowly down until it simply vanished in the air. The austere face was suddenly open and raw with the emotion of his younger self as his eyes hopped from star to star until they landed on the largest of them all, the one decorating the tree. As Poppy had promised, the Great Hall was empty and Snape found no hesitation in his steps as he slowly approached the tree. The dips in the stone tiles felt like coming home. 

_ Home to those without a home, _ he thought as he reached out to touch an ornament in the shape of a miniature sorting hat. 

“Lovely.” 

Severus spent several minutes watching the lights blink before he was struck by a memory in which he and Harry had been jokingly discussing Christmas traditions while brewing.

“No, no, Snape stop. I can’t laugh when I’m trying to get these bloody tiny wings off these things.”

Snape had snorted, dangerously close to laughter himself as he continued. “I was merely stating-”

“Don’t!” Harry had shrieked, trembling with laughter. “I’ll ruin it, I will!”

“Well then, if you prefer  _ not _ to imagine the Headmaster in ballet tights prancing about a stage for a recreation of the  _ Nutcracker _ , I will be silenced. But let it be known, I have already saved the student population from utter demise once when I talked that barmy old coot out of beginning that tradition.”

Harry howled with laughter, tossing down his tweezers. “Fuck’s sake.” Harry had walked over to the cleaning station eyeing Severus as he went. “Don’t think I missed that smirk. Sabotaging my work.”

“Very little to sabotage.”

“Hey! You’re the one who’s being a git.”

Rolling his eyes as he stirred three strokes counter-clockwise, Severus said, “Well, if not Albus dressed in tights, what  _ do _ you want Christmas tradition to look like?”

Harry had already returned to ripping the delicate little wings off the bugs. He paused, glancing at the potion brewing before returning to his work.

“I don’t know. At the Dursleys, I had to stay in the cupboard for practically the whole month of December. They made sure I never even saw the tree. I think...I think if I had to do it myself, I’d want a big tree. Not a magic one. A muggle one. You know, where you have to do the lights yourself? And ornaments, but not just boxed ones. Random ones. Ones that you have to buy at weird knick-knack shops that smell funny and old. Yeah. I’d like a big tree with lights and broken, strange ornaments.”

Severus had paused before replying. “You are strange.”

Harry shrugged. “Takes one to know one.”

Back beside the Hogwarts tree and out of his reverie, Severus smiled. He let the tree branch drop from his hand. “I shall see you next year.”

Casting a light glamour on himself, he strode out of Hogwarts to the gates where he promptly disapparated. Landing on the outskirts of a small muggle village, the closest one to the cottage and the one he frequented for groceries, Severus transfigured himself a woolen winter jacket and headed into town. His long legs stretched out as he marched between the tidy rows of houses covered in a layer of snow. Smoke puffed through the chimneys and there was a delicate morning tranquility blanketing the town. Severus hid his smirk. There was a mystical aspect to this perfectly muggle town the way it gently woke in the glorious winter landscape.

“Magical,” Snape whispered to himself. 

Skidding to a halt with as much grace as he could manage, Severus stood in front of a battered-looking sign and a lot full of fresh-cut Christmas trees. Looking around from the outside, Severus did his best to be discreet. Thankful for his glamour since he knew the dark hair would stand out, Snape rubbed his palms dry on his jacket. It was absolutely ridiculous to fear a muggle Christmas tree shop and he wasn’t going to let the nervous tickling in his core convince him otherwise. 

“Can I help you?”

Snape whirled to his left where a stocky little man was tugging on a pair of raggedy gloves. The small man had a welcoming face and bushy brows but there was a twinkle to those cloudy blue eyes that reminded him of Dumbledore.

“Not at the moment. I will find you when I have made a choice.”

“You know where I’ll be.” The man pointed to a small stool near the entrance before hobbling back over.

Snape brushed off his suspicions as paranoia and began to carefully pick through the trees. The dark eyes kept darting left and right, searching for any sign someone may be watching him. He had never selected a tree before and it was daunting at best. Halfway through, Snape rolled his eyes to himself and shook his head.

_ This is utterly ridiculous. I am treating this as though I were shopping for robes. _

As he turned the corner, prepared to snag the closest one and leave, a tall Christmas tree with a wide base caught his eye. Approaching it, Severus lightly clapped his hands together at the sight. It was a fair deal taller than Severus making even him have to crane his neck which meant it would be larger than life for Harry. The dark eyes scanned the fresh, flexible needles and wide tree. It would hardly leave room for much else in the room, but Severus supposed it would be worth it. 

Casting an unnoticed protection spell on his arm, Snape thrust his arm straight to the trunk and picked up the tree. Surprised by its sheer bulk and strange weight, Severus went careening backward with a yelp and a hoarse cry. Falling directly into the prickly arms of several other trees, Severus kept his grip on the tree firm as he struggled to escape the trees. After a few minutes of a fantastic struggle, Severus stood, arranging his hair and smoothing down his robes with his free hand. The pale blue eyes tracked Snape with worry as he approached.

“I would like to pay for this tree.”

“You lose the fight back there?”

Snape cleared his throat, wishing he didn’t have the glamour on. “The. Price.”

The old man and Severus spent no more time chatting and before Snape knew it, he was walking down the street towards his house, floating the tree beside him. Removing the glamour and casting a light warming spell over himself, Snape trudged through the fallen snow with a lightness to his heart. He didn’t even sneer at the sky as fresh snowflakes tumbled down. His cheeks pinkened as he approached the home and snow decorated his hair but on the face was a soft, nearly invisible smile tugging at his lips. The sight of his own cottage puffing away into the morning sky seemed the best sight of them all. 

Until that is, he attempted to get the tree through the door the muggle way. After much fuss and several batches of needles falling to the floor, Snape shrunk the thing down with an annoyed huff before placing it under a stasis spell and conjuring a stand and some lights. Looking down at the tree which sat slightly lopsided, though Snape couldn’t figure out why, he figured a little magic wouldn’t hurt Harry’s dream any. The tree had quickly become the centerpiece of the room. Snape only rolled his eyes, knowing with certainty now that Harry would like it.

The pale hands set to work to finish lighting the tree. After a good hour of tangling and untangling the cords and fighting the urge to scream as loud as he could, Snape stood back to look at the sight. His hair stood up at odd ends with small needles sticking out at various intervals throughout. Maintaining an elegant exterior even within his own home, in a grand gesture he brought his hand to his chin while holding his elbow. The large tree looked even larger in the cramped room of his study. It’s red, blue, and green lights colored the ceiling and elegant shadows danced around the room. 

Snape sniffed slightly. It smelled like the Great Hall during those early winter mornings. A pleasant fatigue nipping at his bones, he smirked.  _ He will like it.  _ Leaving the lights on, Severus crept up the stairs to his room before slipping into a new set of pajamas. Poppy had, after all, instructed him to rest. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt able to listen to such a demand. More often than not, he would stomp away without indulging it but this time was different. This world was different. He wasn’t a spy any longer. He could just rest.

And he could do it with Harry.

Slipping quietly into the bed and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of Harry’s head before tugging him close in a warm embrace. Snape nuzzled into Harry’s neck smiling warmly as he felt Harry begin to uncurl. Pulling his head back to his own pillow, Snape stared at the mop of raven locks in front of him. Closing his eyes and giving into sleep, Snape thought,  _ Perhaps I have a family of my own now. Harry. Something to love.  _ And Snape descended into the warm bliss of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Here's some just nice fun Christmas stuff. Hope you enjoyed it! Will Harry like the tree? We'll see! As always, thanks so much for the kind comments and kudos. It means a lot! :D


	24. Together At Last

Harry woke with a start. Harry  _ woke _ . Shifting beneath the sheets and the throb of a powerful headache, Harry rolled onto his side. Blindly reaching his arms out in a stretch his hands danced over a second pillow, something his own bed never had. Slowly opening his eyes to the golden light filtering through the partially drawn green curtains, Harry looked down at the pillow in his grasp.

_ Green. _ Looking around at the room he huffed out a sound of surprise.  _ This is Severus’ room.  _

Pressing a hand to his head, he groaned. The pain rolling in waves through his skull made him nauseous. Dropping his hand down to the pillow beside him, he hummed as he felt Snape’s energy tickle at his fingers. Rolling over onto his side to face the pillow, he closed his eyes and dropped both hands to the silk pillowcase. Letting the grogginess of sleep slowly seep out of him, Harry breathed in the warm, earthy scents of Snape. The pain in his head gradually receded, taking the soft blanket of sleep with it. A wide yawn opened his mouth as he finally blinked his eyes open.

_ Merlin, how long has it been since I’ve been awake?  _ He absentmindedly stroked the pillowcase while he thought.  _ Must have been at least four days. Not that I was any more coherent before that. Did Minerva get through? Hermione? I smell...clean. Must have been Draco then. _

A light tugging on his ring as he ran a hand over the pillowcase broke through the surface of his thoughts as he worked to force his brain to remember the haze of the past several weeks. There were snippets of desperate pleas and pain and he distinctly remembered when Minerva began attacking the house. Nothing explained his current situation. Bringing his hand close to his face, he unraveled the hair entwined around the snakes. Stopping, Harry felt his breath slipping away. It was a long hair, much longer than his own. Running his free hand through his hair and letting the lone strand stay on the ring, Harry held his breath. His hair was significantly shorter, nearly half the length.

Holding the hair up to his eyes, Harry swallowed thickly around his suspicions. It was black. That was Snape’s hair. A hair that was never there before. Harry had rarely slept on the bed, but after it lost its magical current, he had washed the sheets and cleaned the room properly. Frantically running his hands over the bed, Harry felt the persistent hum of magic.

And then, like a lightning bolt, he remembered those soft lips pressed against his and the warmth from those hands as they touched, caressed, and cleaned away the pain. Harry’s memory gradually warmed until he was burning, set aflame by the words whispered in the back of his head just last night.

Touching his hands to his lips, he repeated those words. “I love you, Harry Potter.”

Gasping breaths of unbridled joy and relief, Harry laughed quietly to himself as tears glistened in his eyes like holiday lights.  _ I missed it. I missed it when I woke up. Snape… he’s… He’s alive. He’s alive. He must be. I couldn’t have just imagined that he said he loved- _

A crash coming from the downstairs jolted Harry upright. The dull throb of his headache threatened to return and pressed heavily against his temples. Ignoring the warning, Harry scrambled out of the bed to find a black sweater and fleece snake bottoms waiting on a stool blocking the door. Slowly slipping them on, Harry all but moaned as the energy of the home and the clothes washed over him. Severus had come home. Not wanting to waste another second, Harry tossed the door open and thundered down the hallway.

Rushing down the stairs and slipping off the bottom two with a thud that shot through his spine, he charged into the kitchen to see Snape standing at the stove, carefully cracking eggs into a sizzling pan. The large, dark green robe hugged his proud shoulders and nearly stopped Harry’s heart. Neatly brushed dark hair curled up slightly where it met the top of Snape’s back. Harry let out a harsh breath. He had looked at those broad shoulders for months. Sitting in the classroom as Snape’s elegant hands scribbled away he’d seen those shoulders. They flexed and pulled at the white fabric of his dress shirts as he made up Harry’s bed or reached for his chocolates. Those shoulders that no matter the pain handed to them by Voldemort pulled together in good posture. The shoulders he had watched flex with rage as Dumbledore placed Harry in danger. Harry looked at those shoulders and felt tears begin to wet his cheeks.  
Tearing his eyes away from Snape, Harry took in the rest of the kitchen. Besides Snape on the counter sat a plate of bacon, toast, and the two mugs both steaming with black coffee. To his other side, an empty plate and two cups of juice along with a half-empty french press. 

_ And a box of open chocolates. _

Stunned into silence, too grateful and stupefied to speak, Harry returned to watching the lithe figure wave one hand to move the plates to the table, duck below them, and flip the eggs.

Then the velvety voice, which Harry had dreamt of hearing, rumbled through the morning air. “I apologize if I woke you.” Severus snorted and Harry could feel him rolling his eyes. “Though it is nearly noon.”

Not trusting his words, Harry started shuffling over the wood floor towards Severus with his hand extended in front of him. Pulling his hand back in, Harry stood several feet away unsure of what to do. What was the etiquette in these sorts of situations anyway?

Snape poured the eggs onto the plate and waved them off as he wiped his hands on a black towel tucked into the waistband of his black pajama bottoms. Dropping the towel on the counter, he picked up the two mugs before turning to face Harry, strange lion mug offered out to him.

“I’m afraid Sylvas had to perform the correct heating charms. She does tend to take her coffee rather hot.” Snape scowled as he looked down at the mug.

“Sylvas?”

“The house-elf.” The eyebrow jumped up and Harry realized he had yet to grab the mug. With a stutter, Harry found his hands moving out to grasp the mug. His fingertips brushed against Snape’s as their eyes met. This time, he found that the long, ivory fingers were warm and prickled against him with life. The dark eyes which he had too often seen full of pain and frustration had softened. Harry fell into the dark depths and failed to notice as Snape removed his hand from the mug. 

“It should have come as no shock that you  _ forgot _ to check to see if my home had a house-elf and yet…” Snape trailed off with a wave of his hand. Harry was trembling, coffee in hand, as he stared up with large doe eyes at Snape.

Those obsidian eyes peered down over the hooked nose Harry had so terribly missed. Licking his lips, Harry opened his mouth to try to speak but the warm hand cupped his face. It was all he could manage not to break down on the spot with longing and sorrow. Leaning into the touch, Harry felt Snape’s thumb brush away the tears on his cheek.

“I am sorry, Harry. I never meant to leave you this way.” The hand left his cheek and Harry opened his eyes, pained by the loss. “Come, before you devour all but the table, I have something to show you.”

Walking into the other room Snape stopped in the threshold, head cocked and lips pulled tightly together. The last time Harry had seen him so nervous was when Severus had given Harry the room he had created. Ivory hands tugged the robe closed but as they went, Harry caught a glimpse of black chest hair. Turning his eyes away with a blush, he focused back on the ferocity of the gaze which was currently fixed on something in the sitting room. Snape huffed with a groan before stepping out of the way and gesturing for Harry to enter. 

“It is not perfect.”

Before Harry could rebut, he walked in and saw the tree. Jaw dropping with a surprised exhale, Harry let a large smile wrinkle his features. There, tucked in the back of the room, past the hallway, and leaning slightly against one bookshelf was a Christmas tree. Beautiful red, blue, and green lights wound around the tree albeit a touch unevenly. Pine needles stuck up from the small little skirt surrounding what Harry could clearly see was a stand. And atop the tree was a strange potion phial shaped almost like a star and filled with a silvery liquid that shimmered and sparkled in its bottle. Seeing the small little potion bottle sitting contentedly on the top of the tree warmed Harry’s heart. 

Padding over to the tree in his bare feet, he reached out and tentatively touched the green needles. They sprung beneath his fingers, softer than he had anticipated. Craning his head up to look at the lights and the star Harry laughed as he realized the ceiling had been charmed to give the tree extra room. Taking in a deep breath as he looked at the little lights plugged into the wall, he could smell the crisp scent of pine filling the room. His eyes combed through the tree for many minutes, taking in the astounding gift Snape had given him. A breathy, “wow” left his lips as he shook his head in disbelief.

Sipping from his coffee, Harry leaned back, bumping into Snape’s firm chest. “You did all this?” He looked over his shoulder to find the colored lights twinkling in the obsidian eyes. 

The eyebrows twitched together for a moment before Snape slid a very careful arm around Harry’s shoulders. “I was out. Minerva demanded I see Poppy in the morning. This was simply...on the way.”

“Like hell it was,” Harry chuckled.  _ He remembered this was something I always wanted. Maybe he saw it too in the memories I shared. Never really had a happy Christmas until Hogwarts and even then, it still wasn’t mine.  _ “Always wanted a muggle tree like this.”

Whispered against the top of his head, Snape said, “Yes, well.”

Leaning his head back against Snape’s shoulder he said, “Thank you. No magic?” Harry turned out of the half-hug to look at Severus whose cheeks were tinted pink.

“There may have been some.” The dark eyes refused to meet his for a moment. But when they finally shifted over to the emerald eyes, Harry saw the hint of a smile tickling Snape’s face. “It was...resisting entry.”

Laughing loudly, Harry shook his head before taking another sip of the hot coffee. “Well, I’m sure it learned its lesson. The rest though, no magic?”

“Very little.” Snape shifted away from Harry as he began to walk towards the table. “I was unsure where to acquire a star.”

Harry laughed harder, sloshing his coffee and abruptly stopping as the dark eyes followed one drop all the way down to the rug. “Sorry.”

Snape rolled his eyes and sat himself down at the table and began to eat. Harry slid in across from him, welcoming the routine they had established on weekends when he stayed for breakfast at Hogwarts. It felt familiar, seeing Snape across the table delicately getting to work on his food. The two began to eat, Severus carefully cutting and arranging all his food while Harry haphazardly threw food down his gullet. As he dug in, he could hear the soft tunes of instrumental Christmas music floating around them. Casting a look over his shoulder at the tree, Harry was suddenly filled with awe.

_ He never showed this to me. The soft Snape at Hogwarts is nothing compared to this. Merlin, what will he think when I tell him we’re soul mates? After all he’s done for me, I have to ask him to do more. To put up with my stupid arse until what? Until he dies? Fuck. _

The normalcy of their breakfast was suddenly overshadowed by the guilt spreading through his chest like a sickness. It stifled his breath and nudged him in the direction of sorrow. His throat was dry and he found that even he couldn’t muster up the courage to engage in small talk because it would all lead back to one place: he was Snape’s soulmate and he needed him to survive.

_ Gee, Snape thanks for everything. For sacrificing yourself over and over for me. Oh, one quick thing. Mind if I hang around forever? If you do mind, I’ll just go die. But you’d never let that happen to me. You’d sacrifice yourself all over again for me. Merlin, Harry. Dreamt about this day forever and you haven’t even hugged the man. I’m a right git. But how can I talk to him when it’ll just end up with me  _ **_asking_ ** _ him to sacrifice himself again, his peace for me. Voldemort isn’t even dead anymore. If Snape is with me, he’ll be a target. Dammit! _

A warm hand found his and squeezed. Nearly choking on the last piece of his toast, Harry looked down to see Snape holding his hand for a moment before returning it to his mug. 

No longer able to bear the pressure Harry blurted, “You’re my soul mate.”

Severus looked up from drinking his coffee. Flashing a toothy grin, Severus dropped the cup to the table with a bang and began laughing. 

The soured wrinkles twisted in ways Harry hadn’t seen yet as they carved gorgeous lines across Snape’s face. His hair tumbled back as his chin lifted, exposing his neck. Harry shuddered as he watched Severus open his heart freely.

“Merlin, Harry. Is that why you are pouting?” Harry shrugged, slightly offended. “Did you believe I was unaware? I nearly spliced myself into a million pieces trying to apparate to you the moment I escaped. I’ve known from the moment I arrived at Malfoy Manor we were mated. Lucius took pleasure in informing me.”

“He knew?”

“He assumed.”

“So you never had confirmation?”

A muscle tightened Snape’s jaw. “Not entirely. I have intimately worked with a mated pair where the dominant perished.” The clear eyes clouded over as he looked down into the drink. When they flicked back up, Harry felt as though he were seeing a long-hidden secret. Snape sighed. “Lupin and Black.”

Harry sucked in a breath. “No.”

“Yes. Albus demanded I create a potion to save Remus. I could not.” There was a tightness to the voice that Harry was unfamiliar with though it reminded him of the early days of their encounters in Hogwarts. “Remus fought for a time. If you take my word, I will tell you we became close friends.” The dark eyes held Harry’s gaze, communicating a sorrow so deep words would never do it justice. “I was familiar with the affliction when I saw it in you. Unsurprisingly, you did not respond normally.”

“I would have been dead right away if I had.”

“Perhaps you have this house to thank.” Snape kicked a foot against the ground. “The wards are laced with my magic.”

“Well, thanks. For saving my life, I mean, again.” Harry nervously laughed, looking back down at his empty plate.

“Whatever else would I do to fill my time?”

Harry felt a sad smile stretch on his face. “I didn’t know about Remus and Sirius.”

“Albus didn’t find it pertinent to share the information. As Remus confided in me, I could not betray his trust. Soulmates are a precious thing in the wizarding world, Harry. They are rare, powerful, and often intimate in ways others could not imagine. I could not betray him.”

Harry nodded, understanding. “Is that…” Harry shook his head slowly, as if in disbelief of his sudden realization. “Is that why you’ve always protected me?”

“Perhaps.”

A small silence stretched between them before Harry asked, “What happened after...after I left you?”

“I do not care to speak of it. However, I will divulge the basics as you are prone to...intruding. Lucius spent a great deal of time stabilizing me and tormenting healers, magical and muggle alike. I roused moments before Lucius left me alone with Narcissa. It was unpleasant but Narcissa was...kind.”

“You trusted her?”

“With my life, evidently.”

Harry opened his mouth to yell about her but all that came out was, “I guess I owe her one.”

Snape narrowed his eyes and cocked his head, evaluating before continuing. “She could not directly help me. No, Harry. There was no way she could have without endangering herself or Draco. I am sure you have heard his telling of it.”

“Yeah. It got back to him that Lucius slapped you.”

Severus stiffened, his breath clearly held. “I do not care to remember it.” 

Harry looked at his lap.  _ Of course he wouldn’t, you idiot. Wizards don’t use hands to fight. It’s the ultimate insult and you’re bringing it back up. _

“I entrusted my wand to Narcissa. Which as it turns out, was the correct move.” He held up his wand, recently procured from Draco. “Lucius was mad, rambling about the Dark Lord returning, punishing me. I am sure there are far better topics for conversation.” Snape kept his gaze on Harry. “Then, as you are aware, he cursed me, trapping me in the mirror.”

Harry knew Snape wanted to leave well enough alone, but he had to know. “Do you...do you remember everything you saw?”

“After speaking with you, yes. Before, it was entirely too jumbled for me to make much sense of it. I will pour over the pensieve in the-”

“I wouldn’t bother.” Harry was quick to interrupt.  _ Please, never look at them. Please. I don’t want you to see what I did. _ The dark eyes narrowed.

“I will bother. They are my memories.”

“I just mean that-”

“I understand what you meant, Harry.”

_ End of discussion. Got it. _ “You’re right,” he said with a laugh. “There are better topics of conversation."

Snape paused to drink his coffee. “You have Draco to thank for releasing me. Without my wand, I was unable to do more than watch you suffer.”

“Unsung hero,” Harry muttered.

“What’s that?”

“I said he’s been busy saving my arse since you...since that night.”

“Ah, so someone  _ does _ step up to wrangle the boy-who-lived in my absence.”

Harry smiled over the rim of his coffee cup. “Something like that. We’re good friends and unfortunately-”

“Oh please, Harry.” Genuine concern flooded the eyes. “Please don’t tell me you  _ owe him _ ?”

Placing his hands on his face, Harry peeked through his fingers. “I may.”

Severus groaned. “We will never be rid of him.”

Harry shook his head in agreement. 

Quietly, Severus said, “He was nearly too late. Lucius had planned on your near-death, not your actual death. The Dark Lord would have...bonded with you using my hair in a polyjuice potion, keeping the mirror and myself nearby to feed you without your knowledge. I’d have to watch you do his bidding, suffer at his hands. It is the worst possible punishment for a dominant.” The dark eyes dropped. "Our base nature is to protect. I would have been helpless, unable to save you."

Harry watched the hand tremble as it brought the cup to his lips. Severus drank slowly from the cup, relishing the bitterness of the coffee. Something flashed in those dark eyes before the older man winced and closed his eyes. Harry studied the hard features as they struggled to relax.  _ It must have been awful for him. All because of me.  _ Harry felt the familiar tumble of guilt in his stomach. 

“I did not realize how much time had passed until you contacted me, which you were only able to do since Lucius’s arrogance allowed it.”

“Spellwork doesn’t hold if he isn’t around.”

“Precisely.” Snape drank the last of his coffee. “There was a memory charm within the mirror but it only dulled them, it did not erase them. We have discussed that.” Harry nodded. Suddenly, Snape’s posture relaxed. “Your incessant yelling seemed to have jarred me from Lucius’s spellwork. Insufferable brat.”

“Glad I am, for once,” Harry mumbled into the cup.

“As am I. It was not pleasant being in that space.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, his throat a desert. “It wasn’t fun out here either.”

Snape’s features grew stern, the shadow of a sneer fighting his upper lip before the expression melted completely. The man looked exhausted. Deep inside his belly, Harry felt the hollowness and fear overtake the man across the table from him. Something dark swept over the obsidian eyes. Harry felt as if he were staring into a void.

“It was emptiness, Harry. Complete emptiness.”

Harry looked into his refilled cup.

“When you used that mirror, it was no longer emptiness.”

_ Are there tears in his eyes? Merlin, Severus how bad was it? _

“Harry, you must know it was never my intention to leave you here like this. I expected at some point during the summer you would need my assistance. I didn’t trust Dumbledore not to place you somewhere unsafe out of spite like the Burrow. Forgive me, the Weasleys are,” through forced teeth he continued, “a decent lot. Molly at the least does her best but it is not safe enough to protect you from the Dark Lord or his Death Eaters. If you stayed here, I hoped I could protect you without Albus’ interfering. After Albus handed over your location, I was unsure what his next step would be. I did not foresee Lucius grasping the situation better than I. However, Poppy may have had to inform Albus in which case, he would have understood precisely what was occurring.” Snape's face tightened, a feral look capturing the normally measured expression.

Moving the conversation out of deadly waters, Harry placed his cup down and said, “So you had a portkey made for the house?”

“Illegally, yes. I was incredibly short on time and Albus blocked my path at every turn.”

“No kidding.”

Harry looked over at Snape whose dark eyes bored into him. Hands clasped together over the table, Snape stared at Harry, waiting for the words.

Harry said, “What happened that night?”

“The Dark Lord announced you would die soon, not a week before the incident. That night, the portkey activated giving me a minute to respond. Oh, don’t give me that look. It was  _ illegal _ . I needed it created to ensure I would have adequate time to prepare in case I found you…” Snape trailed off, something dangerous glinting in his eyes. “I arrived further away than I anticipated but the portkeys that aren’t created under supervision very rarely drop in the correct position. Unfortunately, I landed amidst Lucius and the other Death Eaters. I allowed myself to be distracted and Lucius landed a particularly nasty spell on my wand arm.”

Silence covered Snape’s words and stilled his body. Tension crept around the edges of his lips as they curled into the beginning of a discontented snarl. His wand arm tucked closer, hiding the thick scar beneath the soft fabric.

Harry said, “Could you…” Lowering his eyes, he found he didn’t have the strength to continue.  _ It was me. I distracted him. _

“Yes. I heard you.”

“I distracted you.”

Snape took a deep breath in, measuring his response. But Harry saw through it. The tired eyes seemed to sag as the memory of Harry screaming moved through his mind. His knuckles turned white as his jaw set itself in anger. Severus exhaled harshly and Harry thought he’d never seen the man so tired.

“Harry, I…” Any emotion Severus was close to exposing, he locked away. “The events of that night are still unclear to me.”

“That’s bullshit, Severus. It’s bullshit!”

“It’s-”

“It’s  _ bullshit! _ ”

Severus squared his shoulders and yelled, “I am not interested in reliving those moments, Harry. Do not force me to!" His shoulders heaved with a large sigh. "The urge to protect you nearly consumed me when I portkeyed into that blasted house. Since the night of our most recent occlumency lessons, I felt an attraction towards you. I had worried that it would someday interfere with my work as Spy." He huffed in a sort of half-laugh. "That night, when I heard your cries, I felt as if I were being hit with a Crucio. You were  _ mine _ and someone was defiling you. I couldn’t protect you.”

Locking his eyes onto Harry’s he said, “I do not share what I believe to be mine, Harry. I will protect what I love with my life, as you’ve learned.” Taking another deep breath in he said, “I...I assumed at the time my attraction was solely that, an attraction. I never believed that it could have been something more. When you were so close to me, I assumed it would be safe enough to steal something for myself. A kiss, as it was.”

“You gambled?”

A light pink colored his high cheekbones as he looked down at his coffee. “I gambled.”

“Unbelievable. I cannot believe  _ you _ gambled!  _ And _ you lost. Oh, I’m not forgetting that.”

Snape glared out at Harry as a shit-eating grin spread across Harry’s features. Kindly changing the subject, Harry looked around the room which was decorated in garland and knick-knacks that looked as though they had been shoved in a back closet for too long.

“You went to a lot of trouble, Snape.”

“I did what someone should have long ago.”

“And all the decorations?”

“The awful Gryffindor red you mean?”

“The  _ lovely _ Gryffindor red, I mean.”

“There is more.” With the snap of his fingers, Snape summoned Sylvas.

“Sylvas, Master Potter.  _ Potter _ , my house-elf.”

“Oh, uh. Hello.”

Sylvas walked over to Harry and slapped the hand leaning on his dirty fork. He hissed in pain as she said, “Sylvas is happy to make Master Potter’s acquaintance.” The blue eyes narrowed. “Even if he is a bit daft.” She, along with the dirty dishes vanished with a crack.

For the second time that day, Snape laughed. 

Smiling and rubbing the back of his hand, Harry said, “Feisty. Reminds me of a certain Potions Professor.”

“You have ignored her for eleven years. How did you expect her to act?” In place of the dirty dishes, a treacle tart appeared. “Ah, there it is. I believe I mentioned that happy birthdays were in order.” More quietly he said, “I should have known the moment I introduced red into my quarters at Hogwarts that you were to be bonded to me.”

A rough laugh erupted from Harry and boomed through the house. 

_ Of course, the git would say that. Only likes three colors. _

But as Harry continued laughing, catching glimpses of Snape’s far away smile, he started realizing this wasn’t funny. He’d thought Severus had died. For years, Severus had been nothing more than a dream in his head. The distinct voice faded to memory, the snap of his cloak vanishing. Suddenly, Harry was sobbing. This time, Snape was at his side. Harry found himself inside those strong arms. His head against the firm chest and soft robe which had begun to smell like the man he loved again. Burying his fists into the fabric, Harry sobbed.

“It’s all right. I’m here now, Harry.”

Bright green eyes red around the edges from crying turned to look up at Severus.

“I heard you last night. I...I…”

Snape’s hand moved behind Harry’s neck as he leaned low, a breath away from Harry’s lips. “I know.”

Gently capturing Harry’s lips and coaxing them open, Severus swallowed Harry’s moans as he kissed him. Harry melted against the strong chest as he turned soft and pliable in Snape’s arms. Giving himself over to the gentle, probing tongue, Harry whimpered into the kiss.  _ This _ was paradise, he was certain.

When the kiss ended, Snape pressed Harry against him in a hug and breathed, “You are safe.”

Harry was overwhelmed by the warm presence of a man less than 24 hours ago he thought gone forever. Gently pulling himself out of the warm embrace, Harry let his eyes wander over to the treacle tart sitting in the middle of the rustic wooden table. A small birthday candle glittered gold in the middle. Snape snorted as he saw the boy wonder’s attention drift towards the dessert on the table. Standing from his place at Harry’s side and smoothing the wrinkles on his robe, he took his seat at the other side of the table. Harry dug into his dessert with a smug grin.

Severus broke the happy silence blanketing them. “Poppy tells me that I am thirty-nine.”

“Thirty-nine? Merlin, Severus you’ve hardly aged a day! I’m…”

_ It’s been what eleven and a half years without him or has it been twelve? How old was I when he left? Harry get yourself together, the man will think you’ve really lost it. _

“Need my help to keep track of even your age, Potter?” 

Harry looked up, fuming at the use of his last name but burst into laughter as he saw the smugness of his old professor. Arms crossed over his chest, black eyes burning with pride, and the crinkle of a smile decorating his ivory face. There was even a dusting of red creeping along his cheeks as his hair drooped in front of his eyes.

Raising his hands up in defeat, Harry said, “I guess I do.”

“You are twenty-seven. And I am certain you have not visited Poppy nearly enough in your years.”

“Will you force me to go?”

“One of these days,” he grumbled. 

Harry giggled, diving into the treacle tart with renewed vigor, quickly polishing it off. Standing up from the table, Harry half bowed. “Thank you, good sir.”

Snape rolled his eyes as he made his way over to the couch which sat nearby the glittering tree. Walking with his a fresh cup of decaf floating behind him, Harry followed, easing himself onto the couch. When Severus accidentally brushed his thigh against Harry’s, something in the younger wizard snapped. He felt as if a lightning storm had gone off in his chest. He had been without the stoic, soothing presence of Severus for years. Having him again did something to Harry’s stomach. His green eyes settled on Severus as he relaxed into the couch, a thick tome settled into his lap. Swallowing, Harry noticed the black hair speckling the chest exposed by the robe. Knowing Severus was clad in only the robe and pajama bottoms ignited a deep heat in Harry. 

Before Harry knew what he was doing, he had crawled between Snape’s legs. Nuzzling the robe, Harry felt the muscles of Snape’s legs tighten. The robe felt soft beneath his roaming hands as his fingers danced over the tie lazily looped around Snape’s waist. Beginning to undo the tie with one hand, the other hand slipped beneath the robe and ghosted across hardening flesh pressing against the smooth pajama bottoms. Snape stiffened more noticeably.

“Harry…”

The voice was full of want and need but dark caution slept there too. But Harry had mourned for too many years to pay attention to the caution tightening Severus up. Swallowing thickly around the desire in his own throat, Harry pulled the tie and pushed the fabric out of the way. Harry tugged on the pants, relieved when he felt Severus lift his hips marginally to help them slip off. Revealed to him at long last was a long, thick cock nestled in a small amount of black hair. Mumbling as he kissed the tip of the large cock, he said, “I want to.”

“Harry.” The warning remained but Severus had begun to relax, his hand creeping closer to Harry.

“Let me, Severus.”

Tentatively licking up the shaft and pausing at the head, his tongue cradled the red tip as his green eyes looked up. Fiery lust flashed in the obsidian eyes. A moment of indecision crossed the stern features before a white-knuckled hand threaded through the mop of hair and guided the mouth down onto the pale cock. Harry smiled around the intrusion as he felt the thump of Snape’s head falling against the couch. Following it was a loud, low moan that melted the last of Snape’s tension. Harry watched a moment longer as he took Severus deeper, spurred on by the moans spilling from his lover. The legs splayed wider as the pale hand lodged in his hair tugged him closer. Harry felt himself harden even more as he swirled his tongue around the firm cock.

He sucked and licked and moaned around the cock as he pulled hisses and sounds from the pale pink lips. The hand loosened in his hair and he pulled back slightly, one hand working the base and the other lapping up the precum dribbling from the slit. The hand tightened again as Severus let out a long moan and began bucking up into the willing mouth.

“Harry, I…I…”

Speeding up his pace and gently cupping and squeezing Snape’s balls, Harry looked up as Severus cried his name. The pale lips had opened in ecstasy and the dark eyes were squinted closed, a pleasant crease forming on the man’s forehead. Harry swallowed, giving a loving lick to the tender head as he smiled up at Severus. Lovingly tucking Severus back into his pants, Harry sighed as he took in the sated look relaxing Snape. He had never seen the man without some rigidity to him. Watching him rely solely on the couch to keep him upright tickled something in Harry’s chest.

_ He looks good like this. Happy, fulfilled. _

Crawling up into his lap, Harry nuzzled into the exposed neck realizing he finally got to see a bit of that tenderness he had witnessed so long ago. A long arm wrapped around his shoulders as a hand tipped his chin up. The dark eyes looked into the green depths with a gentle smile before Snape leaned in and kissed Harry thoroughly, tasting himself on the talented tongue.

“I may begin to appreciate mornings if they start like this.”

Harry laughed. “Just wait until you find out about night time.”

Snape chuckled lightly, warming Harry’s face with a furious blush. They sat that way for a long while, Harry tucked into Snape, listening to his steady breaths. 

He knew by the strained breath in that Snape was going to say something.

“Harry, are you sure?”

Scooting back so that he could look him in the eyes, Harry said, “Bollocks, Severus. You have to be kidding. I just had your-”

“I am not kidding. There are far more...suitable...members of wizarding society. Surely a man with a less checkered past than mine may interest you. Perhaps someone who the  _ Daily Prophet _ would not use as cannon fodder to destroy your name.”

“You’re really serious, aren’t you?”

“Quite.”

“I don’t get it.”

Severus sighed heavily as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Harry, I am not an attractive man. I am not  _ nice _ . I have made terrible decisions in my past. Your parents… Lily. I-”

“Oh no, you don’t.” Severus reared back, confused. “No, you don’t get to drag my dead mom into this because you’re scared. You  _ tried _ to help. It was Dumbledore who didn’t keep them safe. I saw your memories.”

“Yes, but I-”

“Merlin help me if the next words out of your mouth have something to do with your service to the Dark Lord.” Snape snapped his mouth shut, an interesting quirk to his lips. “You see? I already know all your tricks.” Harry tucked his feet beneath him as he leaned in towards Severus. “I know how you feel about this. You gave me a good tongue lashing when you told me you wouldn’t survive the war. Guess we were both right on that one. But this isn’t about you moping and being bitter and feeling sorry for yourself, Severus. I  _ love _ you. Don’t look shocked. I do. And I want this. I want us.

“I know how this will work. I’m not uninformed. I know that soulmates generally have to bond. I  _ want _ to bond with you, magically and legally. I don’t care if the whole world knows and has something to say about it. Fuck!” Harry grabbed Snape’s hand and pressed it against the heart thudding furiously beneath his chest. “I want them to know that my heart beats like this for you. I  _ need _ them to know. If I’m not the savior anymore fine! I never was in the first place. You killed him, Severus. You killed him to save me. The Ministry knows, you’ve got an Order of Merlin First Class but I obliviated them. Obliviated anyone who I thought might talk because I knew you wouldn’t be ready.

“But dammit. I won’t let you try to convince me you’re no good for me. This whole blasted wizarding world can go up in flames, for all I care. I want you, Severus. Bonded to me so that the world will stop giving you shit and finally  _ see _ how wonderful you are. I've kept what you've done hidden long enough. I won't let you sit there and tell me you're no good. I _need_ the world to see you're mine.”

Harry’s chest was heaving. Snape’s focus was absorbed totally by Harry’s hand clutching onto his. The dark eyes blinked slowly before flickering over to the tree, back to the hand, and finally up to Harry’s face.

“Are you proposing to me?”

Laughing in shock, Harry looked down to the hand and swallowed the remainder of his laughter. “That depends on if you say yes.”

The dark eyes held his a moment longer before Severus turned red from his chest all the way to his ears. Mumbling he said, “It would be amenable.”

“Perfect.” Harry leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to Snape’s lips. When he pulled back, the dark eyes were filled not only with the pretty lights of the tree but with something Harry recognized as hope. He had never seen it before and he felt the prick of tears.

Shooing Harry off his lap, Severus stood and walked up the stairs, motioning for Harry to follow him. 

“I need a shower.”

“Because I shed like a dog all over you?”

“Because I have yet to have a shower after eleven years.”

“And you let me-”

Severus shrugged. “It seems my cleaning charms are more adept than your own.”

“Git.”

“Brat.”

Severus sent a smirk over his shoulders as he walked up the stairs with Harry trudging behind him. Stepping into the master bathroom, Snape wandlessly ran the shower as he slipped off his robe and pants. Methodically going about smoothing the robe out and hanging it on its hook then delicately folding the pants before setting them in a hamper, Severus moved about the bathroom like a dancer before walking into the shower. Glancing back at a still covered Harry Potter, Severus raised an eyebrow.

“Would you prefer to shower separately?”

Jumping, Harry began shucking his clothes off as he shook his head and quickly said no. As he walked through the magical barrier to keep water within the grotto, he looked up at Severus who, even with shampoo in his hair managed to give off a threatening aura. This sort of malice Harry hadn’t felt since he had first attended Hogwarts. Stepping under the stream and closing his eyes against the water, Harry tried to ignore the look but found he could only feel the eyes glaring at him.

Pulling his head out of the water he said, “What? What’s the matter?”

“You left your clothes  _ on the floor _ , Harry.” Delicate, strawberry-scented bubbles rolled down Snape’s neck as he scowled.

Laughing loudly and freely, Harry’s hands found Snape’s nude chest. “Merlin, Severus. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you so mad.”

“They are on the  _ floor. _ ”

Harry leaned into Severus, laughing ever louder as the scowl deepened on Snape’s face. Discontentedness vibrated through his throat as he growled. Harry only went further into hysterics. Placing his head against the wet chest as he laughed, he caught the whisper of a heartbeat.

“I hardly see the appeal of placing nice clothes on the-”

“Shh.”

Harry gently shushed Severus and much to his surprise, Snape fell quiet. Letting his eyes slide shut as Severus wrapped his arms around Harry and guided them both beneath the spray, Harry let a few soft tears join the flow of water. The rhythmic heartbeat pounded against his eardrum and rattled the organ beating in his own chest.

_ There it is. Strong. So strong. Snape… Severus. He’s really alive. Here, with me and alive and not going anywhere _ . A small voice in his head said,  _ And you bloody proposed to him. _

He tightened his grip on Snape.

_ Well, he did say yes. _

Soap touched his back as he felt Severus wash the strong muscles there. The gentle touch reminded him how rarely he was cared for. Inside the safe embrace of Snape’s arms, Harry felt loved, cherished, and as though Voldemort himself couldn’t hurt him. Pulling back just slightly, Harry found understanding and bottomless love in the dark eyes. The edges had softened and a great care filled them now as Severus looked at the wet man pressed against him.

“You may leave them on the floor.” The eyes raked over Harry in a way that made his heart flutter with love. He could  _ feel _ the love seeping out of Severus. “But if I fall on them, it’ll be your head I hang on the wall.”

Harry placed a tentative kiss on the light patch of black chest hair.

“I’m happy to pick them up, Severus. I’m just…”

A cloud covered his vision as he thought back on the past eleven years. Long fingers brushed the hair out of his eyes.

“I understand, Harry.” With a sigh, he pushed Harry back and began cleaning himself off. “I am happy to be home.”

Harry turned and began rinsing his back off. “Must be nice to be back in the cottage.”

“Yes, it is. Though,” Severus cleared his throat and Harry turned around, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Though I am happier to be  _ home _ .” The dark eyes captured Harry’s gaze.

_ With me. He’s happy to be home with  _ **_me._ **

Letting a free, unadulterated smile spread across his face, Harry only nodded. Yes, Severus was home. Home at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!! AH! One more chapter left. I might make a little bonus chapter as a Christmas treat for everyone. Tell me you liked Snape using a potion as the star because he didn't know where to get a normal one. I really hope you enjoyed this rather fluffy little chapter. You all deserve it after what I dragged you through!


	25. The Afterimage

“Minerva. Minerva! I am aware that you are there.” Snape growled as he pulled his head out of the Floo. Casting a cautious glance back towards the stairs, he groaned. Harry was still asleep and the more he yelled for Minerva the more likely he knew was to wake up the brat. Harry knew Severus had a meeting with Minerva in the morning which only could increase the likelihood of his snooping. Swallowing the last of his pride, Severus ground out, as respectfully as possible, “Headmistress, may I have a word?”

The calm, pinched face of the Headmistress appeared in the flames. “Why, Severus, of course. I always have a moment for you.”

“Bloody witch.”

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Severus ground his teeth together, damning the witch momentarily.  _ I have to speak to her. If I do not… _ Severus shuddered. No, he did not want to think about the verbal lashing he would receive if he blew off Minerva. 

“I will be through in a moment. Step back. I refuse to be responsible for ruining your precious black cloaks.”

A small “hmph” made its way through before she said, “You are hardly one to talk, you old bat.”

“ _ I _ have not aged in the past eleven years, Minerva.”

The face curled up in annoyance in the embers but withdrew immediately. Severus took one final look around the room and cast a cursory charm to ensure Harry had not followed him down here and was not currently sitting beneath the blasted cloak of his father’s. After all, Harry had made his curious tendencies well-known to Snape after both peering into his pensieve and sticking an extendable ear through Albus’s Floo. He had even caught him sneaking around the cottage in the past week. _A chronic snooper is what that man is._ _I do not need him spoiling his own surprise._ His wand swept the room, coming up with absolutely nothing. 

Narrowing his eyes, he sent a wayward hex off into the corner before whispering, “Homenum Revelio”. Nothing showed up and Severus had to concede.

Tossing a bit of black Floo powder into the Floo, the green light flickered in his dark eyes as he straightened his back as he walked through. With grace and elegance, he walked out the other side into Minerva’s office without displacing a single crumb of ash. Delicately brushing off any ash from his shoulders, he looked around the office. It had been an awfully long time since he had been in these rooms. The menacingly kind presence of Albus had long been physically removed from the office. The bowl of lemon drops, replaced with hard caramels. 

Cozy chairs dotted the foyer to the office, all of them sitting below the portraits of the various Headmasters. The rest had hardly changed at all and yet, there was something unmistakable missing from these rooms. It wasn’t as though Albus had gone, no. His presence still lingered. It clung to the shadows, made love the dusty bindings of books he had spelled there. The dark eyes raked over the room, a thousand memories rolling over him. Each inch of the floor holding another place he had stood and begged Albus not to do this, not to destroy him. The breath whistled through his nose as he continued taking in large breaths to soothe his nerves. Unless someone knew what to look for, the marginal tightening of the lips and the gentle touch of his fingertips the hems of his sleeves, it would appear as though he were as calm and composed as ever.

His eyes danced over to the phoenix who trilled quietly from a back corner. Fawkes remained ever vigilant, standing on her perch looking as though it were nearing her time to erupt into flames. Before he had time to comment on her appearance to Minerva who had gradually begun to approach him from the stairs, the rolling stench of death filled his nostrils. Whipping around, back to the witch, Severus faced an apparition. Distantly he heard the gasp of the Headmistress. She had shouted something, but Severus was too absorbed by the dark gray specter hovering inches from his face. 

Lips open in shock, Severus murmured. “Gods, what has he done?” He fell silent, obsidian eyes committing every detail to memory as his trained habits of a spy took over. 

It was an ungodly thing. Caught somewhere between Albus and the Dark Lord, the creature stood a touch taller than Severus as the Dark Lord always had but its pale face and long beard held the familiar, false warmth of Albus. It was bald, without the same cap Albus had worn and held the distinct lack of nose which made the beard ever the more menacing. Long, sinewy arms caught between life and death reached out towards Severus. Recoiling enough to be out of reach, Severus felt the icy touch miss his face and scrape across his arm. Hissing in pain, he took another step back this time with his wand raised.

The pale apparition clothed in thick, black robes took a strange, staggered step towards Severus. A groan caught between a growl and the light laughter of the former Headmaster crackled in the air like fire.

“Severus,” it said, “You have returned.”  _ That voice.  _ A terrible look of determination blanketed Snape’s features as he stifled the panic. The hissing voice of Albus Dumbledore rolled towards him. “I knew you would, my boy. I knew you would. I...planned on it.” 

Dark eyes flashing up to the apparition’s face, Snape drew his wand. Instead of initiating legilimency, he found himself trapped beneath the eyes. One was the horrid, ugly red that haunted Snape’s nightmares. Those red eyes split only by a dark slit seemed to reflect the blood on his hands, the poor muggle blood he had shed for Albus. The other eye was blue, an even more terrifying color than the red. That terrible, twinkling eye latched onto him. The muscles of his legs threatened to give as he stared into the eye of his most feared master, Albus Dumbledore. 

“I am unfinished, Severus. I require Harry Potter. His assistance, if you will.”

Suddenly then, wretched images began flooding his mind. Slamming walls up, fighting desperately to keep his thoughts his own, he could not stop the influx of images. All of them involved Harry contorted in wicked positions, broken, bleeding, and dead. Very dead. He could see himself holding the boy, wailing at the dead body in his arms. The last image stuck, consuming his senses. He could smell the iron, feel the slick blood on his hands. Worst of all, he could clearly see Harry laid out in the dark bed, hair tousled from sleep, covered in blood. His face was sad, the green eyes open and unseeing, his hand clasped around the ring. His last moment spent trusting Severus. Snape’s dark eyes went wide, a ring of white surrounding black as his brows danced ever higher.  _ No. It is impossible. He was asleep. He is asleep! This is a trick, a trick of the mind.  _ But he could not will it away, could not stop it the way he stopped other manufactured visions.  _ Harry...it cannot be! I could not have- _

Minerva, long faded into the background at this point yelled something indiscernible in Snape’s direction. While he did not catch the words, the volume interrupted him. Blinking himself free of the apparition, he without hesitation cast the killing curse. With a horrid screech that sounded like a strangled laugh, the apparition exploded.

Turning briefly to the aghast Minerva, Severus locked eyes with the older witch. She shook her head slightly, hand coming to cover her mouth hanging agape. A strange emotion passed between them as if suddenly, after all this time, the woman finally understood the strain of the terror Severus lived with. Quietly, barely above a whisper, she said, “Go. I will follow shortly. I must ensure Hogwarts is safe.”

Severus gave no affirmation he heard her. The dark eyes stared into the familiar, warm blue eyes of his best friend, the closest thing he ever had to a confidant in this castle, before spinning on his heel and storming back through the Floo. 

He tumbled through. All the grace and elegance he had previously flaunted gone as he took a hard fall to the floor. A sickening crack of his knee against the stone floor surrounding the fireplace reached his ears but the pain it brought with it was numbed, pushed away for another time. The delicate hands splayed out against the dark floor and for a moment, he stared down at his still potion-stained fingers as a bitter sense of loss flooded his mouth and seized his chest. The hopeful image of his hands spread across the tanned body fluttered away on the breeze of regret as he stared down at them.  _ I’ve lost him.  _

“Harry.” His voice scraped against rocks as he croaked out the name.

Wasting no further time, he scrambled up, barely getting upright before sprinting through the house and up the stairs. “Harry,” he began shouting, a frantic edge to his voice. “Harry!” No response came. Charging down the hall with a speed he rarely showed anyone, Severus threw the door open. It hit the wall with a resounding bang, bolting Harry upright in bed. The wild eyes of the young man jumped around before landing on Snape whose face was open and raw, taken by the molten fear navigating his center. Harry was alive. 

Grabbing around for his glasses, Harry couldn’t see Severus trembling from head to toe as he took in the very alive form grumbling and patting the nightstand. A wretched and new cold feeling worked its way down Snape’s back. The same possessiveness he had felt overtake him in Hogwarts when Harry had been nearly killed by the Dark Lord came back. Standing in the doorway, with his cape settling around his ankles and his hand relaxing his grip on his wand, Severus huffed out a sad whimper as he looked at the man who minutes ago he was certain he had lost forever. A small, tan hand pushed the round spectacles onto his face as Harry looked up at Snape. Immediately, Harry reeled backward.

“Severus, Merlin you look like you’ve seen a ghost. I know Minerva can be-”

“It wasn’t...it wasn’t her.”

Harry tilted his head, chewing on his lip. The crack in Snape’s voice tipped him off, Severus knew. He stood in the doorway, desperately trying to mask the emotions threatening to erupt. He measured his breaths, tightened his lips, built large walls in his mind, and swallowed down the pain of the near loss, and still, a deep ache had seized his bones. Only two people had ever had unfettered access to the terror that so often gripped his core, the terror of losing something irrecoverable. It had been James on that terrible night and Lucius as he watched Severus give into the terror of losing Harry. 

Severus willed himself to maintain his composure but his expression had begun to sour, his eyebrows twitching against the cool facade he displayed. He could feel the very tip of his nose redden as the tears began welling in his eyes. Staring through a dammed-up river at Harry, he could see the gears in Harry’s brain working, the green eyes absorbing every detail he thought he wanted to hide. Keeping his eyes trained on the green eyes, he commanded himself to stand taller but it seemed all he could do was curl in on himself with a slight hunch. A tremor worked its way into Snape’s hands, his wand clattering to the floor.

“Are you all right?”

“I am fine.” 

On the last word, Snape’s voice cracked and his knees buckled, sending him to the floor. Crumbling in a pile of robes as he landed on his heels, Snape doubled over. His arms wound around his stomach, clutched at his side fiercely enough to bruise as he barked out a rough sob. Strands of nightmarishly black hair fell forward and clouded the pale face of the man but the dark eyes shot open as he wailed, giving anyone within proximity a clear window into the suffering suddenly drowning his senses. The world caved in around him. His only thoughts were that he had failed. He  _ had _ failed Harry. 

Yelling out as he gripped himself harder, Severus burst a blood vessel in his eyes. Soft red seeping into the clean whites like the stain he felt creeping across his soul. Like a punishing mantra, his mind latched onto the phrase,  _ I would have lost him. _ He screamed again, this time the sound rattling his vocal cords and popping in and out as the pain of his perceived failure necrosed within him. The powerful flood of emotions rolled over him in unbearable waves.

He shouted again, this time clear words making their escape. “I would have lost him!”

The thud of bare feet didn’t reach his ears nor did the crash of knees to wood as Harry landed in front of him. Harry’s voice was grave as he gripped Snape’s shoulders. “Hey. Severus, hey!” The tighter squeeze of hands on his shoulders only made Severus pull away. The green eyes lingered on the trail of tears wetting Snape’s face for a moment before the strong arms hauled Severus up and over to the bed where Harry dragged him into a rough embrace. 

With the soft bed beneath him and the warm blanket, Harry had draped around his shoulders, Severus gave a shuddering sigh, surrendering to the tender care Harry offered as he continued to weep. "I'm going to heal your knee and eye, all right?" The wash of a gentle silencing spell surrounded him as he wept and the soft lick of healing magic buzzed through him. A warm sense of gratitude bubbled up in his belly before being slaughtered by guilt. Harry inched closer and wrapped his arms around the man once more. Severus dropped his forehead to the strong chest of the younger wizard while his pale hands fisted in the Gryffindor red pajama top, quietly weeping. 

As the minutes ticked by, the frantic edge had vanished. The tears fell silently now and the trembling body had finally acquiesced to Snape’s iron will and relaxed.

Minerva's voice jerked Snape as he clutched more tightly onto Harry. “Oh, Severus.”

“Give us a moment, please? There’s tea downstairs.” Sylvas popped in at Harry’s snapped fingers. “Will you please tend to Headmistress McGonagall, Sylvas.”

“Yes, Master Harry.”

Snape shuddered, a new wave of embarrassment threatening to create another waterfall of shame fall down his cheeks. He felt the brush of wild hair against his cheek as Harry bent low. The puff of warm breath across his ears stopped the swelling feeling of hot shame.

“It’s all right. She’s gone. We can tend to her whenever. She’s a very patient witch, that woman is.” Harry pulled Snape into a tighter hug and Severus couldn’t help but allow himself the moment of comfort. “She has put up with you and me for  _ years _ after all.”

Another few minutes passed until Severus was finally able to dry his tears. Though he wished to deny it, it felt beyond wonderful to be consoled. It had been the first time in all his life anyone had ever taken an interest in his sorrow but in front of that joy was a much louder fear. Harry would hate him now, without a doubt, for exposing such weakness. With a certain breath, he pulled back to look at Harry. He had expected disgust, revulsion aimed at the man again as he had seen it in those early days of Hogwarts but instead he found glittering concern and tear-stained cheeks that mirrored his own. Harry huffed with a sheepish laugh as he quickly wiped his face off with the back of his sleeve. 

Gently cupping the younger wizard’s face, Severus ran a thumb over the flushed cheeks. Red and agitated from crying tears over him. The dark eyes met green and he understood. This was what it meant to be loved. 

He opened his mouth, breathing through the small crack in his lips before speaking. “I thought I had lost you.”

Harry leaned closer, brushing his nose gently across Snape’s several times before still and pressing his forehead to Snape’s. He could distinctly feel the raised welt of the scar wedge between them along with a few stray hairs. “Well,” Harry breathed across Snape’s lips, “You haven’t.” Lips, swollen from crying met another pair just as plump and distraught in a soft yet insistent kiss as Harry closed the gap.

A hand snaked through the forest of black hair and held the back of Snape’s neck as his own hands landed against Harry’s thighs. Harry pulled back slightly, the last trace of worry gone from his eyes as the eyes roamed Snape’s face. “And I’m not going to leave you, you git.” 

The tickle of a smile brushed at Harry’s lips. His eyes slipped closed as he leaned in again and this time Severus gave in, tumbling to his side with Harry and lazily kissing him until the sorrow had left. His wandering tongue tasted salt and something pure Harry as he licked and lapped at the mouth presented to him. Harry easily kissed back, threading his hand through Snape’s as he reassured him that in the face of Severus, the world could be damned. The cool metal of the ring pressed against Snape's bare hand as he held Harry and the sorrow had no hope of remaining.

Eventually, Severus rolled onto his back a smirk tugging at his lips. “Minerva will be livid that we have left her to fret over us while we snogged.”

“She’s a patient woman.”

“Not patient enough for that, I’m afraid.”

Harry laughed, propping himself up onto his elbow. “No, maybe not.”

“Most definitely not.” Severus spared a glance over to Harry, peeling his eyes away from the ceiling. “You do not need to look concerned.”

“You’re fine, isn’t that right?”

Knowing he’d been had, he only grunted.

Harry sighed. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“It wasn’t what happened, Harry.” Harry was quiet, keeping true to his word that he wouldn’t press Severus. “I thought you had died. In Minerva’s office, a strange apparition appeared. The worst of Albus and the Dark Lord combined.” Harry sucked in a strangled sounding breath. “I am the most talented Occlumens the wizarding world has seen but the apparition...tricked me...without disturbing my barriers. I saw many images, all of your death, but the one remained. It was clear that it was...in the present.”

“Merlin.”

Snape licked at his lips. “I was not prepared.”

“How the bloody fuck should you have prepared for that?”

Severus blinked slowly. A small voice in his mind said,  _ He does have a point. How  _ **_could_ ** _ you have prepared for such a strange occurrence? _

“I suppose it was impossible.”

A small silence stretched between them as they each drifted off into their thoughts. The sharp crack of Sylvas arriving in the room had Snape and Harry both sitting upright. Minerva had undoubtedly begun pestering and commanding out of nerves. They had both witnessed her do it, a terrible habit to the students and staff alike.

“Master Snape, Master Harry.” Severus nodded, elbowing Harry in the ribs to do the same. “Headmistress McGonagall is growing...restless.”

“Sylvas, tell the Headmistress that Harry and I will be down in a moment. And do fetch her a box of my chocolates, please. Perhaps a glass of wine as well. Thank you, Sylvas.”

“Yes, Master Snape.”

Sylvas exited with a pop as Snape rounded on Harry. “For how often you young around Miss Granger and her S.P.E.W, you certainly have no manners so to speak of with the house-elves.”

The brat had the audacity to smirk back at him. “Hermione will be awfully pleased to hear you care about them though, I think she’ll be happier to know you remember the name of her organization.”

Severus could feel his cheeks heating. Not wanting another gaffe, he grabbed the cackling Harry and proceeded to drag him from the room. “Hey, wait! I’m not dressed.”

“You should have considered that before agitating me, you insufferable little monster.” 

Hauling Harry into the room and in front of both the tree and McGonagall, Severus stood with his arms crossed over his chest, head slightly cocked as he looked down at Harry. Rolling his eyes at the sight of the silly Christmas tree bottoms, Severus couldn’t help but smirk at seeing Harry enjoying the clothes he had given him.  _ What must Minerva think? _ He snorted to himself at the strange, lopsided Christmas card image they could have made with him towering and sneering in black beside a very bedraggled looking Harry in cotton pajamas. With trees on them.

As if on queue, McGonagall began grinning. Snape sneered more severely. “Oh, Severus, come now. I was only thinking of how lovely that tree is.”

“Do not try to deceive a Slytherin,” Severus bowed ironically, fanning out the sides of his cape, “Headmistress.”

Approaching Severus who was rising from his bow, McGonagall slapped him with her gloves. “And you accuse  _ me _ of giving cheek! Harry, dear,” Walking past Severus, she held Harry by the shoulders. “Are you all right?” Giving him a once over before turning back to Snape, her wrinkled expression betrayed the concern she had. 

“I’m fine, Minerva.” The woman returned her glare to Harry. The green eyes swung wildly to Severus in a plea for help. He merely blinked.  _ I am not fighting  _ **_that_ ** _ fight for you, Potter. Oh no, that witch would skin me alive. _ Harry frowned but refocused his attention on the woman. “If you were any more motherly you’d cluck.”

“ _ Someone _ has to watch over you two.”

Harry chuckled lightly before ushering everyone over to their seats and slipping perfectly into the correct manors of a host. The drinks were served, food was offered, and Harry even had the decency to ask Minerva how she was today. Harry Potter was on his best behavior and showing impeccable manners. A fact that Severus should not have found attractive but still could not help the slight rush of heat to his groin.  _ Harry Potter with manners. Evidently not a completely hopeless sight after all.  _ Severus licked his lips, looking at the gentle curve of his neck, the hollow of his collarbone peeking out from the loose shirt.  _ Would he listen to my commands in the bedroom? Open himself wide for me simply because I asked? _

The image was scalding his eyes, burning a hole straight through his brain and to his cock. He swallowed thickly, his mind wandering to the thought that had a half-hour ago brought him to his knees. What would those pale hands look like gripping bruises into the golden skin? Severus swallowing around the lump of arousal and suddenly thinking about his lips wrapped around Harry, milking moans from those plump lips. Severus let his eyes stray for a moment. Harry wasn’t clad in denim nor the multi-layered robes. He was a breath away from Severus was one breath away from just reaching out and touching-- 

“Yeah, Severus, what  _ do _ you think? I’m dying to know.”

Blushing furiously, Severus cleared his throat, refusing to make eye contact with Harry and instead decidedly looking down at his hands crossed on his lap. Harry was, as he recalled, a skilled Legilimens and, well, Minerva needn't be one to see what Snape was thinking about.

“I apologize, Headmistress. I must have been somewhere else.”

“Dreaming about that getting in his robes, must be,” She mumbled.

“What?” Harry and Snape both asked. Snape shot Harry a look who fell quiet, raising his brows. “Minerva,” Snape said, “What did you say?”

“I had asked your opinion on pickle juice as you seemed to have already left our presence. Before that, if you must know, I was discussing that ghastly thing.”

“An afterimage.”

Harry furrowed his brow, “No joke?”

_ Why would the boy know about afterimages? _ “I do not engage in foolish pranks. Yes, it was an afterimage and it was made with powerful magic. It would have remained until someone cast the killing curse at it. The Dark Lord had used them on occasion.”

“He wasn’t the only one,” Harry grumbled. “Voldemort definitely used them a lot. But even his could be taken down with a weaker spell than the killing curse.”

“Ah yes, but this was not solely the Headmaster’s afterimage. A combination curse could strengthen it to suitable levels for such a powerful curse. We are lucky it did not require something...stronger.” Severus peered down his nose, inciting a challenge. Something sparked in Harry’s eyes but he quickly put it out and looked at his feet. 

McGonagall interrupted their silence. “The both of you can come by later and take a good look at what is left. I’ve had it preserved.”

“Thank you, Minerva,” Severus said. 

“Severus, you did not come to my office to discuss the afterimage. I see that Mr. Potter is awake and with us so, what did you wish to discuss because I am  _ certain _ it is not the last eleven years of your life.”

“No.” Severus felt himself tense, about to lunge and lash out when he felt a warm hand land on his thigh. Harry’s warm hand on his thigh.

“If it’s all the same, Minerva, it’s been a very tough eleven years and it is soon. Maybe we can let Severus tell us when he’s drunk at some ball and looking to brood?” Severus glared at Harry but within the toothy grin flashed at him, behind the warm humour, he could see the pained sympathy in Harry’s eyes.

“Of course. I do look forward to his annual brooding session spent in the back corner of the ball.” 

“I do not brood.”

“Well, what landed your head in my Floo this morning?”

Harry leaned closer, his eyes flickering expectantly between the two others. _ The brat has managed to ruin yet another secret of mine. I am starting to think that his strange luck has joined up with his overactive curiosity. I will never hold another secret in my life. _

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose as if this were the most tiring conversation of his life. “Harry explained that he would be interested in a bond with me seeing as we are soulmates. He...asked...if I was...agreeable to such an arrangement.” The tips of his ears, exposed by his tucked back hair turned crimson.  _ That bloody witch must be smiling. _ Bringing his hand back to his lap he continued. “I thought it best to agree.” He cleared his throat, thankful for Minerva’s silence, she knew he wasn’t done. “Would it be possible, Minerva, for you to clear your schedule say perhaps the morning of Christmas Eve for a small...bonding ceremony?”

The small gasp of air beside him had turning ever redder.

“It would be my pleasure, Severus. Harry. Congratulations are in order.” She paused. “So, it’s certain?”’

“Yes!” Harry shouted. “He deserves something good, doesn’t he?”

“He certainly does. More than anyone I know. He is a good man, Harry.”

“ _ He _ is sitting right here.”

Minerva huffed. “You act as though a compliment is the worst thing in the world.”

“I can hardly think of much worse.”

“Severus?”

“This is about the Potion's position is it not?”

Minerva pursed her lips. “Would you like it?”

“Yes,” he said, hand coming to rest over Harry’s. “It would be amenable.”

Minerva was quiet for a moment, looking between the two men before standing and walking over to the Floo. “I cannot compliment either of you, you know. It is infuriating. So, Harry, you could find no braver wizard in this entire world, and Severus, you deserve every ounce of love that bleeding heart Gryffindor has to offer you. Good day.” She spun on her heel and yelled, “Headmistress’s Office” into the Floo and quite literally ran away.

Severus laughed as Harry leaned into him giggling. “I think you were right, Snape. She really doesn’t have the patience for us.”

“Couldn’t you tell? She is brimming over with joy.”

Harry nodded against the chest as he cuddled closer. Severus draped an arm across Harry’s back, relaxing into the strange new pattern of physical affection. It felt  _ good _ to be so close to Harry, as though there was taffy between them, only easing the pull when they touched. He was warm and soft but with the distinct hardness of man. Severus felt the tingle of arousal build between his legs again. Casting a look down, intending to see if his half-hardness would be visible, he caught the dark green eyes looking up at him.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing in particular.”  _ Only you, opening yourself for me. _

“Good nothing?”

“Perhaps.” Severus sighed. “I will allow Minerva to alert the world of my existence after our ceremony. You, of course, must write a statement for the  _ Daily Prophet _ .”

“Yeah, course. But what were you thinking about.”

This time, Snape blatantly ignored the question. “The Floo network will be disconnected and the owls will be unable to find us. Untraceable.”

“Perfect, no interruptions,” Harry purred, the sound resonating with a twitch in Snape’s cock. “What were you thinking about,  _ Severus? _ ”

He couldn’t help himself, this time he fidgeted, gaining a bit of relief and friction. “Merlin, must you say my name that way?”

Harry chuckled as he leaned up and licked along the shell of Snape’s ear. A spike of arousal lurched him slightly. He was so hard it ached. “You like it.”

“We will get food from the Muggle village, so you...Harry...” Snape moaned, leaning into the tongue lapping at his neck. “You need to buy any wizarding objects before we… bollocks!”

“Is that what you were thinking about?”

“No,” Severus practically whimpered and without thinking, pressed the heel of his hand against his crotch, willing it to go down, when he was batted away.

“Nu-uh. That’s  _ mine _ .” 

Severus was damned as that hand scraped tantalizing across his thick wizard robes. “ _ Fuck _ , Harry. I was thinking...thinking about your manners. That pert arse spread open for me because I  _ asked _ .”

Harry chuckled again, the rumble of his lips against Snape’s throat intoxicating. “I’m yours to command.” The adventuring tongue tickled at the edge of the scar when Harry asked, “May I?”

Snape nodded roughly as smooth tongue lapped against the sensitive scars. Magical scars, both he and Harry knew, were incredibly sensitive. Outside himself, Severus groaned as teeth scraped gently across the patch of raised, contorted flesh.

“Love this about you,” Harry mumbled against the skin, pausing to suck and lap at it. “Proves you won’t die. So strong, Sev, so blood strong.”

“Harry, I...disrobe. Now.” Severus mustered up his best professor voice, commanding as much respect as possible. 

The green eyes twinkled as Harry quickly stood up. “Yessir.”

“When you are finished, disrobe me.”

Harry undressed in all of three seconds, shucking his two articles of clothing in entirely opposite directions before sprinting nude up the stairs with a gleeful giggle. Severus, who did not run but briskly walked as fast as possible, followed shedding layers as he went. By the time he had reached their now shared room, he was left to his pants and dress shirt which was already in the process of slipping from his toned shoulders. 

Pants still on, he prowled over to Harry who was laying spread across the bed. Crawling over the body, he ground down lightly against the weeping cock jutting towards him. “Why did you run?”

Squirming under the scrutiny of those dark eyes, Harry moaned at the increased friction. “I...Never had it in a bed.”

Severus stopped, looking into those green eyes. “Harry, am I your first?”

“Yeah. I...I mean you know about-”

“I am honored,” Severus whispered, capturing Harry’s lips and banishing the rest of his clothes. 

He kissed him gently, thoroughly, and left the rest of his commands to another day. He felt warm, toned flesh beneath his hands and pulled roughly away from the red, kiss-swollen lips. He devoured Harry with his eyes, moaning as he wrapped a hand slick with pre-come around their cocks. Harry immediately began babbling and begging, squirming for more friction every second.

Waving his hand and muttering for the lube, Severus slowly wrapped his lips around Harry who howled in pleasure. One white hand pinned Harry’s bucking hips to the bed as he dipped his fingers in the lube and ran a long finger down Harry’s crack to his puckering hole. The guardian muscle was tight but willing as Harry bucked and moaned. Snape’s first two fingers slipped in quickly, leaving Harry a truly incoherent mess. With especially strong suction on the cock and rubbing his fingers gently over Harry’s prostate, Severus smiled around the wide cock spurting wildly in his mouth before he continued to stretch and prepare Harry as he lay like a puddle in his post-orgasm state. 

Crawling up to Harry, he slicked his own cock and lined himself up. Dropping kisses across Harry’s chest, Severus drew one pale pink nipple into his mouth and sucked until it hardened into a little nub and Harry began moaning again. Giving his attention to the other, Snape moved on quickly, sucking and nibbling at the hollows of his collarbones and the curve around his Adam’s apple. He continued pleasing and teasing Harry while idly stroking himself, content to keep up this work all day if it came to it. Finally, he kissed Harry’s lips, tongue carrying the bitter taste of Harry’s come into his own mouth.

“Fuck,  _ fuck _ Severus. Fuck me already! I’m ready.”

“You’re certain?” Severus growled.

“Yes! Never been more certain of anything.”

Lining himself up, Severus squinted his eyes shut and pushed against the tight ring of muscle. Inch by inch he slipped in until he was fully sheathed in Harry’s tight, warm arse. Jaw dropping open in a wanton moan, he opened his eyes to take in Harry’s appearance as he adjusted. Another low moan rolled from his at the sight of Harry holding his legs open behind the knees for Severus. The wizard’s mouth was puffy, his green eyes clouded in a haze of lust, and a dusting of nibble marks trailing south. And he was flushed a delectable red, a crimson that matched his golden skin. Severus licked his lips as he pulled back slightly and pushed back in, deciding that after all, he quite liked Gryffindor colors.

Spurred on by Harry’s moans, incoherent babbling, and soft whimpers, Severus established a brutal rhythm as he rolled his hips forward. Leaning low, trapping Harry’s cock between them and the slick slide of their sweat-stained flesh, Severus growled in approval as the two lean legs wrapped around him. They pulled him closer to Harry as he thrust even more deeply. Moaning out a low curse, Severus pushed ever harder into Harry as he began to lift on the swell of his impending orgasm. Tilting his hips to brush across Harry’s prostate, Harry screamed and crashed his lips against Snape’s, a fierce kiss full of teeth. Slinking a hand between them, Severus began timing his strokes to the snap of his hips knowing that he too would fall over the edge soon.

Dropping his lips to Harry’s ear he said, “I love you, Harry Potter.” And Harry came with a feral shout, spurting rope after rope of white between them as he clenched around Severus who thrust twice more before erupting inside Harry with a bellow. Collapsing just to the side, he reluctantly pulled out and crashed into the soft bed.

The two lay like that for a moment, legs tangled together and hands haphazardly touching, both of them panting. It was Harry who muttered a cleaning charm before snuggling into Snape’s arms.

Severus stared into the mop of raven locks tucked just below his chin. Without much fuss, he navigated the blankets around them until they were bundled and the heat between them had heated the entire bed. 

When the commotion settled, Harry nuzzled closer allowing Severus to wrap his arms more tightly around his lover, the thing he couldn’t stand to lose. “I love you, Severus Snape.” He interrupted himself with a yawn. “That will never change.”

“Tired already?” Snape fought back a yawn himself.

“We are  _ recovering _ . We’ve earned some sleep.”

Snape snorted. “You grow more Slytherin every day.”

“I think I should thank you.” Harry yawned again, melting further into the body behind him. This time Severus yawned too.

“Perhaps a rest might do us both some good.”

“Mmm.”

Kissing the disheveled hair, Severus closed his eyes before smiling to himself. “Do you know what my favorite potion is, Harry?”

“Draught of Peace,” he slurred, twitching slightly as he descended closer to sleep.

“Yes. It is so not only for its effects but for the soothing method it is brewed. It is a fairly complicated potion, if you’ll remember, but…” 

Severus continued talking, drifting off a time or two as he did so before giving in to sleep altogether. As he drifted off, he suddenly knew: Harry’s was his. In several hours, or perhaps even the following day, he knew he would wake tangled in his lover’s limbs. He would positively reek of Harry and Harry would reek of him. In a week, they would be bonded. Wrenching himself from the precipice of sleep, he squeezed Harry in a hug.

“I will never abandon you, Harry,” he whispered to the man, slightly snoring. “I will protect you. Always.” Harry sighed in his sleep as if comforted by the soft words and silken promises slipping into his ear. “You are safe. I will keep you safe.”

Together, the two drifted off into the realm of peaceful sleep, a thing neither seemed to catch much of during their lifetimes. The broken goodbyes once caught on each other’s tongues were long forgotten as they gave into hope and the sprinkling dust of beautiful dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! That's it! That's the end...of this book at least. I'm already hard at work on the next one and hope to have it uploaded to you sometime in February. As I hinted, I'm going to give you all a special, early Christmas next week in the form of an extra chapter on Wednesday or early Thursday. I think you'll all like it! I'll say my goodbyes and my thanks to you then but this is where I had stopped this book originally. I hope it satisfies! 
> 
> And by my time, I'm still uploading it on the correct day! Please tell me what you think! Ah! I love you all so much for following this far. Goodnight!


	26. Christmas Present

Harry had lost it. “Enough with the damn  _ cups _ , Snape!” Snape shot him an incredibly agitated look over his shoulder as he lined yet another transfigured table with crystal glasses.

“They. Are. Crystal. Glasses. They are hardly  _ cups. _ ” He spat out the word with a satisfied hiss before turning back and waving his wand at the glasses.

Rolling his eyes, Harry let out a loud sigh. “If I’d known you’d have been this picky, I’d have told them not to come.”

Snape snorted before straightening and fiddling with his elegant, dark green robes. The silver stitchwork had been Draco’s idea, the brilliant ivory under robes, Snape’s. A Slytherin snake pin, white gold, held the long black, velvet cape together. It swirled like a windy shadow as he spun to face Harry. The high collar of green against white buttons and ivory undershirt seemed to make Severus himself look like moonlight. His hair dusted across his collarbones and the obsidian eyes sparkled with mischief as he conjured another glass. As Harry took in the sight of Severus standing tall in his regal bonding garbs, he couldn’t help but smile. 

Delicately setting the final glass down, Severus said, “I hardly think you could keep Hermione out.”

“She’s…” Harry trailed off, flashing palms up as he struggled to encapsulate Hermione in a word.

“Gryffindor.”

Harry laughed. It echoed across the small room and when he opened his eyes, he could see the gentle smile he had become used to decorating Snape’s features. The cold, unreadable face was relaxed, open to Harry and concealing nothing. Padding over barefoot towards him, Harry slinked his arms around Severus and lay his head against his chest, listening to the sure rhythm of thumps. Heat radiated off the man and even in his stiff formal robes, he seemed softer to Harry. The long arms slowly came up to return the hug. 

"Besides, it cannot be a celebration without those who are...important."

"Why, Severus, are you telling me you think Hermione and Ron are important?"

Two long fingers pinched Harry in the side as squirmed and giggled. "I am merely stating that it is hardly a party without a few Gryffindor to entertain."

"Molly and Arthur will want to throw us another one, once word gets out that you're alive, I mean."

He felt Snape huff. "Yes, well, Molly is... Molly has a knack for parties."

"Not opposed."

"Not in the least if she is able to make some of those desserts of hers."

Harry pulled back slightly, clasping his hands together behind Snape's back as he took in the regal look. The dark emerald robes really did compliment the pale skin and dark eyes. The ivory fabric peeking out around Snape's neck hid his scar but contoured his shoulders and nape perfectly. Harry looked down at the cloth buttons absently thinking about how many there were to take off.

“You look gorgeous, Severus.”

Pulling out of the hug, Harry cautiously leaned up to give Snape a quick kiss. But before he could remove his lips, Severus wound one hand more tightly around Harry, crushing him to his chest as a strong hand gripped the back of his neck and urged him closer. Lips parted, Harry fell into the warm glory of the kiss, tasting the lingering trace of chocolate-covered cherries on the talented tongue curling around his own. He moaned lightly, melting further into Snape’s strong arms. Only when Snape closed off the kiss did Harry return to reality. The obsidian eyes, half-lidded and leaving no questions as to what he was thinking about, glittered down at Harry. The dark line of lashes stood out against the pale skin at such a close distance. Harry had no concept of how long he stood observing the slope of Snape’s nose, the dark, relaxed eyebrows, and the lips reddened by kissing but he supposed it must have been long enough because Severus had begun to smile again.

“You are staring.”

Harry smirked, remembering back to his days at Hogwarts. “I guess I am.”

“That was much more eloquent than the first time. Perhaps you have grown after all.”

“Oh gods, you remember that?”

“I remember you blathering.” Snape released Harry. “I rarely forget your blathering.”

“Lemme guess, I reveal secrets?”

Severus cocked his head, his fair falling off to one side to reveal a tucked away ear-tipped red. “Yes.” Laughing, Harry walked off to the kitchen. Calling after him Severus said, “Sylvas will not like you interfering.” After a pause where Harry waved him off, he said, “You look...exceptionally put-together.”

Harry stopped mid-stride to turn and look over his shoulder. The pale hands were gripping the hems of the long-sleeves and a crimson blush had covered his cheeks.  _ If I weren’t liable to be murdered, I’d say he was cute. _ “Thank you, Severus.” Snape nodded briskly and bustled off quickly to attend to some other preparation. There still was much to be done for the reception of their friends.

_ Put together. That's a high compliment from you, _ Severus.

Looking down at the crimson formal robes decorated in elaborate gold, silken snowflakes he shrugged. The material was soft beneath his hands and he supposed that the matching red tux below would flatter him well enough. Draco had very clearly listed all the things Harry should and should not wear to the occasion in his last owl. He had also explained everything that was to occur, down to the throwing of _that_ curse. Harry shivered, he wasn't ready to think of that yet. He loosened the silver tie.  _ Draco will just choke me with it when he gets here. Might as well breathe while I can. _ His shoes tapped with a metallic clack as he stepped into the kitchen. It smelled warm, like roast and pie. 

“Master Potter.”

“Sylvas,  _ please _ . Just Harry.”

The blue eyes switched over to him as the little hands hovered over a salad. The house-elf huffed, much to Harry’s amusement. “Harry Potter. I am not surprised to be seeing  _ you _ in here.”

“Oh, come on. You know I can’t help it.” Harry reached over to grab a rolling piece of carrot when a wooden spoon came down on his hand. With a quick yelp, he pulled his hand back.

“That is being for the dinner,  _ Harry Potter. _ ” Harry stifled his laugh, worried that the spoon would be just as quick to smack him. Instead, Sylvas pointed over to a small little bowl on the countertop. “That is being for you.”

The bowl contained carrots, imperfect pieces of fruit, and even the spoon that had made the cake. Frosting clumped around its edges and Harry happily picked it up. “How did you know?”

“You is always coming in here to  _ help _ .”

Harry laughed loudly and freely. “All right, all right. I get it. But, since I’m here, can I do-”

“No! Sylvas wants Harry Potter to be doing nothing in here to help.” She slammed the oven door and Harry could hear the thump of Severus coming down the stairs at the commotion. 

“All right, you’re in charge. Thank you for the food.”

The little elf looked over her shoulder and shrugged, but her ears were down and he could see the hint of a smile beneath those wide blue eyes. As she fiddled with the roast and arranged the chopped vegetables around it, Severus slid into the doorframe. Harry pressed a finger to his lips and the dark eyes narrowed marginally. With her back still turned to Harry and the doorframe, which Snape now occupied, Sylvas pushed the roast back into the oven with a small nod to herself. 

With her back still facing Harry and Severus, she regarded the cake quietly before saying, “Harry Potter is not so bad. Harry Potter is...slow, but kind.”

“Why, Sylvas, was that a compliment?” Snape drawled, a smile creeping into his voice.

“Master Snape!” The little elf spun around as Severus nodded politely in her direction.

Pushing away from the door frame, he started walking towards Harry. “He grows on you, doesn’t he?” Sylvas grabbed her ears and clenched her eyes shut as she jumped up and down, squeaking. Snape’s smirk grew into a large, lopsided grin. As he passed her, he gave her a little pat on the head and said, “We’ll leave you be, Sylvas. Thank you.”

“Must you torment her?” Harry giggled as he looked back at the house-elf doing a little jig, looking simultaneously more embarrassed than ever and happier than he’d seen. Severus glided closer, urging Harry forward with slight pressure on his lower back.

The hand guided him through the house and out the back into the forest. Casting one wayward glance backward, Snape said, “I have never seen Sylvas in such a state.” The grin spread again, lighting up Snape’s words. “You have a way with house-elves, Harry Potter, despite your utter lack of manners.”

Giggling, Harry bumped into Snape whose raised eyebrow told him he knew exactly what was about to unfold as they walked through the snow. “It’s probably because I’m-”

“Do not say it.”

“I’m the Chosen-”

“Harry, so help me Merlin I will hex you into silence.”

“Then I would never be able to finish the ceremony!”

“We will reschedule.”

Harry’s shoulders shook as he chuckled. The dark eyes found his as Severus slowed his steps. Quickly, Harry fell quiet as Snape whipped his wand out in typical dramatic fashion. The tip of the wand pointed between Harry’s eyes before dropping to the robes and casting a protective barrier around them both. In the late light of evening, Harry thought that Severus looked like a ghost. Something squeezed his heart as he watched the bright moon reflect off the pale skin and the silver accents.  _ Looks like he belongs here, in a kingdom of snow. Bloody gorgeous. Wish I could just keep him here, like this. He looks happy. _ Harry pulled out his wand and cast a quick warming spell on both of them. Before putting his wand away, he held it between Harry's eyes again. Severus tucked his wand back up his sleeve and blinked. 

"Think I'll panic?"

"You were sorted into Gryffindor." Snape paused, a small crease forming between his eyebrows. "It is...a startling ceremony. The bonding of soulmates is different than is with regular wizards. Even more different than your friends, Hermione and the Weasely, who have only been married. It is not uncommon for the submissive to be too overwhelmed with fear to complete the ceremony."

"Yeah," Harry said glumly. "I've seen that happen. Also seen the spells _work_."

"Mm, as have I."  Harry looked up at Severus. "Though, I hardly think that will be our problem." 

"No?"

"No. I will protect you."

Severus said it with such confidence, Harry could do nothing else but believe him. _Course I bloody trust the git._ _Merlin_ , _ I never thought I’d be here. Standing in the snow with Severus on Christmas Eve, ready to be bonded to him officially. In front of my friends. With Draco as witness and Minerva as our officiator.  _

“Come, we have a fair walk ahead of us before we reach the apparition point.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “They couldn’t just pop back like last time?”

“No,” Severus sighed, clearly annoyed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Harry, the two of us would bring every dark wizard known to existence to our place with one misstep. They will apparate into a very known forest and we will all walk back to the home. The Ministry-”

“I know, I know. The ministry won’t suspect anything that way. They’ll just see people apparating into a forest, not into the road of a small town where there happens to be a cottage. And with Draco doing the wards, no Death Eaters will figure anything else out either.”

Snape sniffed, seemingly upset at being cut off, and began the walk to the grove of ghost orchids. It wasn’t a terribly long walk and Harry absently thought about the first time he had walked through this forest. Since those days, he had mapped every inch of it, knew every tree like an old friend. He never told Severus, but in the years after he had held the dying man, Harry had journeyed through the forest searching, desperately searching for the doe, dreaming of the day he would find her. Proof that Severus had lived and loved.

Harry shuddered as he neared the clearing, suppressing a sob as he recalled those raw emotions. The pain that had gripped him for over a decade. The flash of a memory, Harry digging at the dirt and screaming out to Severus, jumped through his mind and he shivered again, unaware that he had stopped. Looking down at his wand, at his scarred hands, he shook his head to himself.  _ I was too weak to protect him. I  _ **_should_ ** _ have protected him. He deserved that much. I left him there and he’s still willing to...to…  _ Harry squeezed his eyes shut.  _ Still willing to be put in danger because of me. After all I’ve done. Fuck, after  _ **_France_ ** _ he should… He won’t leave. He hasn’t even looked at those memories, just bloody trusted me. I’m no good. I’m just a freak, he’d be better off- _

Two warm hands surrounded his shoulders. Emerald eyes snapped up as his thoughts cleared. “Harry.” The voice was just as warm, cooled only by worry.

“I was thinking.”

“You shouldn’t do too much of that. I’ve come to believe your brain does not care for it.” Harry huffed, his eyes jumping off to the side. The hands on his arms tightened before letting go. “This forest carries memories for me as well, Harry.”

“Yeah?”

Severus ran a thumb over the scar on Harry's jaw. "I scarred you." Shaking his head slightly, Snape stood abruptly and walked several steps away. H is back was to Harry whose eyes settled on the perfect posture. The presence of a confession pressed down on Harry. “Ghost orchids bloom in the presence of soul mates.”

“You knew?”

“I...I believed it to be a different phenomenon.”

“Love.” 

Snape was quiet for a moment. After several minutes had passed, Harry began to grow worried that he had upset Severus. But then, the low voice rumbled out. “It is not quite love, it is…” The words seemed to catch on Snape’s tongue. Harry reached out and gingerly touched the back which jumped under his touch. “Unrequited love.”

When the dark eyes turned to him, Harry saw them narrow in pain. “Oh.”

The rest of Snape’s body turned as he moved towards Harry. “You would not have felt what you had that night if your unrequited love was for someone else.” Snape’s chest rose and fell more quickly. “I cherished that moment, Harry.” The dark eyes kept their fierce gaze pinned on Harry who looked back, easily holding his gaze.  _ I understand. You felt loved. You had proof you mattered to someone. You were given happiness and love for just a minute like me because we loved each other. We were soulmates. But you would never take advantage of that love, never force me into anything. You thought you were going to die. Why risk hurting me? _

“There is sadness in this forest me as well.” A thumb traced over the scar lining Harry’s jaw where hair now refused to grow. Though everyone had pestered him about it, the only person he had told was Draco who looked as though he’d vomit.  _ Draco felt terrible for Snape. Kept going on about how unfair it was to him that he’d hurt me. _

Severus continued, saying, “I injured you from a careless mistake. I was too afraid of Albus to protect you.” Snape dropped his hand to Harry’s shoulder and leaned in, pressing his lips lightly against the scar. “I will not fail you twice.”

“Severus…”

“No.” He pulled back suddenly, the absence of his hand on Harry ringing through him with emptiness. “I nearly lost you then to careless mistakes. I will not be as foolish twice.” He turned away taking two steps before realizing Harry had not followed. Walking back and grabbing Harry’s forearm, he began dragging him through the forest.

“Hey!”

“ _ I _ will not be as foolish. It seems that means keeping you within my sight. Honestly, must you cause such trouble?”

“It’s in the name.”

“That it is, brat.”

“Look who’s talking, git.”

Snape huffed but continued dragging Harry the rest of the way. Harry for his part, didn’t protest. The contact was sweet in a Snape sort of way. It reminded him of those early occlumency lessons where Severus had seemed completely gruff, closed off, and cold but still was predictable and kind in the strangest way. After one particularly grueling session, Snape had stormed off but not before leaving out chocolate and a glass of water. He’d stormed out of his own office too quickly for Harry to even thank him. The hand currently wrapped around his arm gave his heart a flutter. This man loved him.  _ Loved _ him.

Harry’s brain let go of the last of its worries. Enjoying the scenery, he relaxed into Snape’s grip and enjoyed the ride until he was thrust into the middle of the clearing. 

Draco had, of course, already arrived. Harry glanced down at his muggle watch.  _ Merlin, we’re thirty minutes early and he’s acting like we’ve kept him waiting too long. _ Harry shuffled a step closer, making enough noise now that Draco turned to face him, blonde hair reflecting the moonlight. Harry knew this expression, the open and fearful one that lasted a beat too long to be imagined.  _ I’m scared too. But he’s alive, Draco, and he doesn’t seem intent on breaking. _ Draco had not had the luxury of being able to be in the wizarding world unguarded or not on the run in the past few weeks since Snape’s escape. Until very recently, he had been unable to swing a quick visit to Severus and Harry instead having to run and hide within various safe spots scattered around the country. As such, his last memory of Snape was rushed, shoved aside as he fought to occlude his memories from anyone trying to pry.

Harry could tell the moment Snape stepped into the forest by the opening expression spreading across Draco’s face. Moments later, the featherlight touch of Snape’s cloak clinging to Harry’s tugged on Harry’s cloak. 

The gray eyes landed on Harry suddenly as Draco rushed over, nearly running through the snow in his all-black tux. The long slender arms wrapped around Harry tightly, pulling him away from Snape. His cologne surrounded Harry in a fog of familiarity and friendship.

“You fucking  _ idiot _ , Harry.” Draco squeezed more tightly. “Gods, you fucking  _ moron. _ You idiotic, pompous, fucking…” Harry hesitantly wrapped his arms back around Draco who seemed to currently be in the process of strangling him. “In eleven years, you never told me you thought he was your soulmate. You...I saw you. When you were sick, I saw you.” Harry stilled. 

“Potter, you scared me.” The “p” of Potter popped sharply in his ear. Past the bravado, Harry could feel the tremble in Draco’s shoulders, the fear in his voice. And he remembered that strangled-looking expression of worry on Draco’s face moments earlier.

“I’m sorry, Draco.”

“I think you think you mean that.”

“I do.” Harry sighed, despite the arms constricting his breathing. “You couldn’t have done anything if you were at my side.”

“Don’t you think I knew that?”

“Would you have wanted to watch me die?” Harry spat out the words on the hunch that Draco would not want something so miserable and pointless but the sudden stretch of silence between them halted Harry's assumptions. “Draco, you...you  _ did _ want to be there for me. Gods, you didn’t want me to die alone, without a friend. Isn’t that it?”

Draco’s arms squeezed impossibly tighter in a rare show of affection. “No one should be alone when…” Draco couldn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he only gripped Harry, as if begging him to never hide something so big again.

“Draco,” Severus cut in, “would you mind keeping Harry alive with his head _firmly_ on his shoulders?”

Pulling back, Draco smoothed his hands down his suit, his neatly styled blonde hair flopping forward slightly. Harry stumbled back into Snape whose long arm had looped around him. Exchanging a quick glance with Snape, Harry stepped back, giving the two time to speak.  _ Bugger looks stressed. I’m sure the past few weeks haven’t been easy on him with Lucius and his Death Eaters searching for him. And I nearly died. I...bollocks. This has been terrible for him and I’ve just gone around acting like a right arse. The world isn’t better yet, especially not for Draco. _

A terribly Gryffindor idea shot through his head. Harry shook any lingering doubts from his mind with a mischievous smile. “Draco!” Both heads turned towards him as he tromped through the snow. “I want you to be the secret keeper of this house.”

Snape’s eyebrows raised practically into his hairline as he looked at Harry but by the time he had schooled his features into obedience and turned his attention towards Draco, all he saw were pale eyebrows lifted in shock and a small pink mouth opened in an “o”. The obsidian eyes caught Harry’s and he willed himself to think loudly and clearly,  _ He needs this, Severus. He needs to be family. _

“I uh, thought maybe-”

“Harry’s  _ thoughts  _ often lead him to fits of blathering.”

Draco’s mouth shut as he smirked. “Finally! Someone who gets it.”

“Though I happen to agree with him on this particularly strange thought. You would be an ideal secret keeper for us. You are…” Snape paused to look at Harry before flicking his eyes back at Draco “...family. It is wisest to trust a member of the family to this task.”

The proud wizard straightened up taller, smiling momentarily before nodding. “I’d be honored, Severus. Harry.”

“I will see you during the reception, the spell should only take a moment.”

“Well, then I will see you then.” His eyes danced towards the slight cloud cover gathering. “I see I still have some decorations to tend to.”

Draco walked off to the far corner, continuing to chant as he erected various wards and created a light snowfall without obscuring the stars peeking through beside a nearly full moon. 

“Bleeding heart.”

“You know it makes him happy.”

Snape snorted crossing his arms over his chest. “It makes  _ you _ happy.”

Color rose to Harry’s cheeks as he began spluttering an answer. Severus opened his mouth and laughed, the rich chocolate sound of it rolling through the clearing and turning Draco’s head. The blonde’s eyes roamed over Severus as he tilted his head back and continued chuckling before looking at Harry and smiling with a soft nod. 

But before Harry could feel too self-conscious of his non-answer, Severus looked down at him and said without a trace of the laughter in his voice, “If you weren’t so softhearted Harry, I hardly think you would have landed yourself with me. I...appreciate...that softness.”

Harry mumbled a quiet thanks, blushing into his ears at the compliment. The two stood side by side, knuckles brushing occasionally as they realized why they were gathered in the ghost orchid clearing. 

It had changed since Harry’s last visit here so many years ago but the magic remained like electricity in the air, static in his heart. Swallowing around a knot of nerves lodged in his throat, he followed the dormant vines of the ghost orchids winding up the trunks of snow-covered trees. Thick layers of diamond snow clung to the naked branches and dressed up the ever-resilient pines. Harry smiled at the garland draped loosely around the natural arch of the trees behind where he and Severus stood. The gold lights flickered beside the silver ornaments and all around the area was snow gently tumbling, dissipating as it hit the protective barriers. It was perfect.

As he fingered one of the ornaments on the garland, he smiled to himself.  _ Never thought I’d be here. Never thought I’d get married at all. I just...planned on dying in the war I guess. At best, hoped I’d get shagged. _ He huffed as he worked to stifle his libido as images of that night with Severus came to him.  _ Never thought it’d be with Severus. But I’m here. Merlin, I’m  _ **_here._ ** _ Severus is here. Alive, the both of us. Fuck. Bloody wild.  _

Harry and Severus continued standing beside one another, casually enjoying the wintery scenery in the presence of one another. It was a new feeling still, and Harry wondered if he would ever grow used to the Potions Master presence wrapping all around him or if it would always feel larger than life, special. Breathing deeply, Harry inhaled the familiar scent of Snape and decided that no, he would never get used to Severus and his powerful presence.

Over the course of the following half-hour, Minerva popped in early and Hermione and Ron arrived just as Draco figured out the spell to mask the clouds. After much fuss, and after Severus intervened in the start of an argument between Ron and Draco, Minerva had taken her place at the entrance of the orchid beneath the glowing decorations and candles that now floated all around and above where Harry and Severus would soon be standing. The Headmistress nodded, motioning them forward.

Harry then Severus walked into the warm bubble of candles, the former amazed at how warm and comfortable it was. 

“Your cloaks, boys.”

Both Harry and Severus looked at one another at her use of the term “boys” but Harry couldn’t help but smiled. Minerva was a special woman, a stand-in mother for both men, and to have her here filled Harry with such a warm emotion he could only call it love. Judging from the relaxed look on Snape’s face, he assumed he felt similarly. Both men undid their cloaks as Draco stepped in behind them, blocking the view from Ron and Hermione and sealing up the last gap in the barrier that allowed cool air to trickle in. Minerva’s blue eyes passed over both of the men standing in elegant dress robes before she whispered a spell on both of the jackets and sent them up and flying to cover the candles. The crimson red and black cloaks settled around the candles creating a shelter for the two men within. Minerva took one step forward as did Draco and the room was sealed. Hidden from all eyes except those within.

Harry’s heart thudded in his chest as he glanced over towards Severus. The shadows of the candles danced on the inside of the cloaks and licked across the pale skin. He repressed a shudder as he turned his attention back to Minerva.

“Wands out, if you please, and face one another.”

Stumbling slightly as he turned, Harry found Draco’s hand steadying his elbow. The gray eyes were reassuring, comforting to Harry who knew exactly how terrifying the next bit of the ceremony was. Draco gave a small nod and softly squeezed Harry’s arm before letting go and clasping his hands in front of him.

When Harry finally turned to face Severus, his face melted. Candlelight flickered in the dark eyes. Set against the backdrop of Harry’s crimson cloak, the Slytherin green formal robes that hugged tightly against his figure stood out. A flutter in his chest and he realized the same look of awe and love was reflected in Severus. Minerva allowed them a minute to take in the stark silhouette of it all. Harry’s crimson robe and silver snowflakes glittering even in the dim light of the room, his hair messed up despite his best efforts. When the obsidian eyes combed over his hair, he caught the hint of a smile.

“Wands raised.”

_ It’s just Severus. It’s just Severus, Harry. You trust him. _ Harry cleared his throat as he lifted his wand to point directly at Severus’s face. The emotions were schooled, the features tighter than they had been in a long while. Harry breathed through the panic as Snape’s dark wand tip pointed between his eyes.  _ It’s safe. Minerva won’t allow a real curse to fly, neither will Draco, that’s the point. _ The green eyes focused on Severus as he was supposed to but from his peripheral vision, he could see Draco’s wand raised and ready to intervene.  _ The ceremony says we have to.  _

"If you will, the names."

Severus nodded saying, "Harry James Potter."

Harry replied, "Severus Tobias Snape."

“I will give you a count, when I say cast you may cast.”

_ I don’t mean it. I don’t mean it. I don’t.  _ Harry looked deep into Snape’s eyes as he listened to Minerva countdown from three. As she said “cast” he watched the words form from Snape’s mouth, could feel them slipping from his own. A brilliant green flash exploded across the room, surely leaking out to Ron and Hermione but as Harry was hit with the spell, as he saw his own spell smack Snape directly in the head, he could feel the warmth of something else flood him. It was as though the ghost orchids had come back and given him that gift of untouched love once again. It lasted only for a moment, long enough to knock the breath from Harry and to leave Snape blinking back tears from being overwhelmed but when it ended, both pairs of eyes turned to Draco who was smiling broadly as though he’d been told a secret.

With a little laugh, he said, “I’d say it’s official, then.”

Minerva laughed. “Well, our witness agrees. There isn’t a touch of malice between you. Wands together now. Hands below. Yes, yes. Perfect.” 

Harry’s hand slipped into Severus’s as the tips of their wands touched. The same buzzing current of magic he could feel at Snape’s quarters nipped at his fingers and jumped through his arm, blanketing him in a strange combination of peace and wild lust. 

“Draco, are you ready?”

“Yes, Headmistress.”

“Boys?”

Harry nodded dumbly and Severus responded with a curt “yes”. 

Minerva raised her wand and yelled, “Concordia!”

Golden rays of magic shot from her wand with enough force to blow off her hat. The light on the candles extinguished immediately as Severus and Harry were hit with the blinding spell and the powerful force of old magic. It wound around their wands first, delicately connecting the magic before jumping through the connected hands with such force that Harry heard himself yelp. He desperately focused on Severus, on the dark eyes pinning him to the spot with their molten intensity as the spell pulsed through his body, connected him to Severus forever. The world spun as darkness began to encroach on his vision, the spell fading at last. Before it did, Harry felt his knees buckle just as Snape’s did and together they collapsed into a heap, leaning on one another and relying on the strong arms of both Draco and Minerva to keep them from smacking into the ground.

Harry had no idea how long he was slumped against Severus, only that at some point, someone was tucking Snape’s cloak around Harry. With the magical warmth of the cloak, Harry slowly came back to reality. A long lock of dark hair was tickling his nose as fingers combed through his hair. Bits and pieces of information came back to him as he remembered that the connection of magic was oftentimes too powerful for the submissive to withstand at first. Harry kept breathing in Severus, trembling slightly at the new feeling of wholeness within him.

“Shh, I’ve got you, Harry,” Severus whispered, his voice puffing across Harry’s cheek. “You did well.”

Harry was numb, his body tingling from the electricity of Severus’s magic still buzzing in his center. His body was heavy as he struggled to gather his limbs behind him. Mumbling and slurring against Snape’s strong chest, he said, “I love you.”

The arms wrapped around him pulled him into a deeper hug as the voice dropped impossibly lower. “I love you, Harry.”

Harry let his eyes slip closed, let Severus pick him up and begin to carry him towards the cabin. From behind him, he could hear Hermione cooing and even Ron sounded bashful and happy. The scent of Draco's cologne followed him as Severus and Draco both whispered words of encouragement. Suddenly then, Severus leaned low and kissed Harry on his forehead, directly on the scar. Instead of fear and shame, it brought a tingle of joy and hope.

"Harry," Snape said, whispering to him again. "I am proud of you."

The words sent Harry into nirvana as he slipped into a quick nap, soon to be woken by butterbeer and an energy potion. As Harry drifted off, content, cared for, and loved in Snape's arms, he heard the man say, "I love you, Harry" loud enough to be heard by everyone nearby and Harry realized, he had found his paradise. And it was in the arms of his old Potions Professor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to write a little something to everyone who has read, left kudos, and commented on this. Thank you so, so much. It means the world to me that you loved and enjoyed this fic. I poured my absolute heart and soul into writing and editing this and to know that you guys cried, laughed, and became involved in this story is the best feeling in the world. I’m doing this for you all. Thank you, one final time for this series, for trusting me and the story. Ah! You guys are great :) I hope you have a very Happy Christmas, holidays, or just a great day.
> 
> Plus! Now we know they're bonded :) Thank you, thank you! Enjoy :D

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This fic holds a really special spot in my heart. I put a lot of love into it so I hope you guys enjoy it! It's book one of two, yep. It's a series! I'll be posting new chapters every Wednesday and Friday. Please let me know what you guys think of this :)


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